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mypoisonedvine · 1 year ago

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Tommy’s teenage love, whom he got separated from when he went to france.. Sad, bitter and heartbreaking end for them.

But now years later he sees her again, and the tension is 👀👀

I know this doesn't have to be dark but of course I made it a little dark 🤣 tommy just can't take no for an answer...

warnings: DUBCON DARK SMUT 18+ ONLY!, yandere, infidelity/cucking, breeding

It wasn't until he tried to kiss you, and you backed away, that he really got angry. Up until that point, it seemed like he'd thought the life you'd made for yourself while he was gone was just a minor inconvenience at most-- but your resistance irritated him. You didn't remember being so nervous around him when he was upset.

"Why won't you kiss me?" he asked softly, and you weren't even sure how to answer that question... wasn't it obvious?

"Thomas," you mumbled, "it was nice to catch up, but..."

He tightened his fists as you trailed off, making you feel oddly trapped while standing in your own kitchen. "I kept my promise," he told you firmly. "I never loved anyone else."

"You can't be angry with me," you scoffed. "Tommy, we were children! We didn't understand what any of it really meant--"

"You didn't really love me?" he assumed sharply.

"O-of course I did," you sighed, "Tommy, of course. I loved you so much. But I grew up."

Your fingers absent-mindedly twisted your wedding ring around your finger, guilt stirring in your chest. If you were honest with yourself, you knew you never moved on from Tommy completely-- no one ever forgets their first love. But you'd managed to put it all in the back of your mind, telling yourself that was all over... until you saw him again. Your heart could've stopped, seeing him at your door; it was like seeing him for the first time all over again, even though you could see how unkind the years had been to him.

But you had to shove all those feelings down now, and think of your husband. "You should go," you whispered, "before he gets back."

"I grew up too," he sneered, taking a step closer that made your heart race for multiple, conflicting reasons. "You have no idea the man I am now. People do what I say or they suffer consequences."

You swallowed thickly, horrified to see the darkness in his eyes-- something totally unlike the gentle, passionate young man you'd known all those years ago.

"If I want something, I take it," he continued. "Doesn't matter if it's a horse, or a gun, or another man's wife."

"Tommy," you whimpered, "my husband will be home soon... you need to leave before he comes back."

He stepped closer again, grabbing you and holding you tightly against him when you tried to step away. "Good," he decided flatly. "He can see what a little whore you are when a real man takes you."

He shoved you down onto the table harshly, ignoring your whine of pain as he pushed the bowls and plates out of the way, most of them falling off and shattering; none of that bothered him, he was too busy roughly pulling up your skirts, unfastening his trousers, holding you down. "T-Tommy, please," you choked.

"I know," he sighed, "I know, you need me so badly. How long has it been since anyone properly made love to you, darling? He could never take care of you like I do."

Sliding his fat head through your folds, you choked on a little sob.

"You still get so wet for me," he grinned happily, "still dripping, just like I remember."

Truth be told, your body still responded to him... that couldn't be denied now. You had a natural urge to give in and let him take you, let him bring you the pleasure you hadn't known since he left; but your logic and your dignity kept up the fight, though it was pretty useless against Tommy's strength-- with only one hand, he held you down while he guided his cock to your entrance.

He sighed a heavy, dark sigh of relief as he sheathed himself inside you, relaxing all over like a burden had been lifted off of him. "Oh, love," he purred, rubbing your back soothingly to try to help you stop shaking. "Oh, I'd nearly forgotten... nearly lost the memory entirely of how warm you are inside..."

You, meanwhile, were whimpering and willing your legs not to shake-- you couldn't let him see how much you loved the feeling, how you'd longed to take him inside you again, or he'd never leave you alone.

"My beautiful," he panted, "my darling..."

Setting a rough and desperate pace, his hands grabbed greedily at your body, forcing you to bite down harder on your lip to keep from moaning.

"You wouldn't believe how I missed this," he breathed. "Thought of you every day in France-- only way I survived, thinking of you... said you'd wait for me, love..."

You tried to hold back your tears, all of this bringing back emotions you thought you'd buried forever-- I would've waited for you forever, Tommy, you wanted to say, I wish I had, but I was scared that I'd never see you again.

You didn't say it, though, because you wouldn't be able to keep yourself together. You were struggling enough now, impossibly conflicted by what he was doing to you. For years you'd imagined seeing him again, but it never went quite like this in your head.

"T-Tommy," you managed choke out, and he cooed your name back at you sweetly.

"I know," he offered again, "it's really me, love-- we're really together again. I won't let you go this time."

You hadn't been lying about your husband coming home soon-- maybe Tommy thought you were, as an excuse to make him leave, but you weren't. You sobbed in shame and fear as he unlocked the door and walked in, finding you two in the kitchen with the most (understandably) bewildered look on his face.

Tommy didn't even stop.

"Wha-- Christ?! Who the fuck are you?!" your husband spat out, stammering over himself.

"I'm Tommy fuckin' Shelby," Tommy growled.

"O-oh," your husband choked, stepping back shakily towards the door. You hid your face, unable to look at him, so you only knew he left when you heard the door shut a minute later. Tommy purred and leaned down to rest his head on your back, between your shoulder blades.

"Don't think he's gonna give us any more trouble," Tommy chuckled darkly. "Fuck, love, I'm so close already-- never knew how to control myself with you..."

The way he breathed against your skin-- that hadn't changed at all. You hadn't even realized you remembered it until you heard it, and it was like you were that girl again, the girl he loved so long ago-- but you weren't anymore, or at least, that's what you had thought.

"Almost ready to fill you up nice and deep, hm?"

"Tommy," you choked, tensing up under him, and he groaned happily.

"Can't wait for our little family, darling," he cooed, "all the babies we're gonna have-- like we talked about back then, remember?"

His thrusts came faster and harder, shaking the whole table under you, and you kept hiding your face so you could try to deny your pleasure. Maybe you could hide it from yourself, but it was useless trying to hide it from him.

"I know how badly you need it," he groaned, "how long you've wanted this-- I'm yours, love, all yours again. You'll never have to be away from me again."

You knew what that really meant was that you'd never get a chance to be away from him again. It scared you just as much as it comforted you.

He came deep inside you with a long, low moan-- and for a long time, he just stayed within you, catching his breath. He only pulled out so he could lift you up a bit, turning you to face him, and finally getting you to kiss him this time. You struggled to focus on kissing him back when you could feel his come running down your thighs.

"You were always mine," he informed you with a gentle whisper against your lips. "Doesn't matter whose ring is on your finger. You'll always be mine."

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #dark!tommy shelby smut #dark!tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby dark fic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut

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krirebr · 10 months ago

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Caught Up in Your Trap

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: You spend your first day in your new home. Part of the Trapped AU.

Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, drugging, training, punishment, isolation, injury, forced intimacy - Just trust me when I say that this is dark. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: Oh my god, you guys. Uh, happy sin day, I guess?? 🤣 Because I am apparently incapable of just leaving a one-shot alone, this is a prequel to I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas spurred by some unhinged 4 AM thots. It is definitely the darkest thing I've written so far. Whoops.

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who was not only the fantastic sounding board she always is, and let me ramble on about all my research into furnaces of all things but also helped me figure out the title for both this fic and the greater AU it's now a part of (🤦🏻‍♀️ Seriously, Kris, just stop!). Hat tip to Bruce Springsteen for both, as well. I'm sure he'd be thrilled. 😂

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Andy pulled up at the address he’d been given, more surprised than he should have been that it was an abandoned warehouse. Of course, this sort of deal would be completed there. He should have known from the sorts of channels he’d had to go through to set it up. Connections left over from his days in the DA’s office. Well, that wasn’t the side of the law he was on anymore.

He walked into the large open space that made up most of the building to find a man standing in the middle of a few folding chairs. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and was wearing sharp but tight clothing. He wasn’t who caught Andy’s attention, though. No, that was you, slumped over in one of the chairs, wearing the clothes you must have been taken in. Even like this, he could tell your pictures hadn’t done you justice. You were absolutely perfect. Or you would be, once he was done.

“Barber!” the man called out, a satisfied smirk raising his mustache. “How nice of you to join us!”

“Hansen,” Andy answered evenly. He nodded at you, “She ok?”

“Oh, she’s fine. Just on enough horse tranqs to move her across the country without her realizing it. She’ll only be out for another day or so.”

Andy walked over to you. “I’m sure you don’t mind if I check for myself. With the amount of money I’m paying you.” Hansen gestured for him to go ahead, so he placed a gentle hand on the pulse in your neck, pleased to feel that it was strong and steady. He took a step back and opened the untraceable banking app on his phone. He clicked the transfer button, moving an ungodly amount of money from his numbered account in the Caymans to the account Lloyd had given him. “Alright,” he said, “the money’s in your account.”

The other man snapped his fingers and someone appeared out of the shadows, holding a tablet. “And I’m sure you don’t mind,” Hansen said as the new man tapped his screen, “if I check for myself. With the amount of work I’ve done for you.”

They all waited in tense silence for the confirmation of the transfer to come through. Andy couldn’t take his eyes off you, eager to finally get you home. After everything he’d been through, this was what he deserved. The perfect wife, the perfect family, the perfect life. And he was going to do it right this time, taking full control until he had exactly what he wanted. Nothing left to chance. It was costing him a pretty penny, but it was worth it.

The man with the tablet nodded at Hansen, who clapped his hands together. “Alright!” he said. “Let’s get this done. My men will get her settled in your car while we finish up.” Two more men came out from the edge of the room and started to put their hands on you. Andy couldn’t help the growl that came out of him. Hansen laughed. “Don’t worry, Mr. ADA, they won’t hurt your precious new wife. You have my word.”

Andy gave a hesitant nod, as they carried you out of the warehouse, clicking the unlock button on his car fob so that they could get you settled. He didn’t take his eyes off you until you were gone.

Hansen reached down and picked up a thick folder. “Everything you’ll need is in here. Everything for her new identity, all in order, all immaculate. Marriage license. Anything from her old life you might need. Although I’d get what you need from those quickly and then burn them.”

Andy took the folder and briefly paged through it. New birth certificate, social security card, IDs, passport. Everything he’d need to start your new life. He put the folder in his briefcase. “Thank you. Anything else?”

Hansen smirked again. “Eager to get started?” He leered in the direction you’d disappeared. “Can’t say I blame you.”

Andy cleared his throat, not appreciating the way Hansen was talking about what was his. “Yes, I would like to get us both home. Are we done here?”

“Sure sure. You have a good time now,” he smirked.

Andy gave him a curt nod and then exited in the direction Hansen’s men had taken you. There was no sign of them by his car, but you were laid out across the backseat. He opened the door and leaned in to brush a gentle finger across your cheek. He wouldn’t be able to relax until you were secured inside his home. It was so close now.

This wasn’t your room. You’d woken up some time ago (you couldn’t say how long ago exactly. There were no clocks, no windows) in the most comfortable bed you’d ever felt. You thought it might swallow you up, it was so soft. Luxurious. The whole room was that way. Beautiful. Rich. You were dressed in a satin nightgown that wasn’t at all like anything you owned. You tried very hard not to think about the fact that someone must have changed you. The door was locked from the outside, a small keypad right under the doorknob. You tried banging on the door. Yelling for someone. Nothing. A quick exploration of the room hadn’t yielded anything either – the two other doors were also locked, a dresser held only men’s clothing. So you’d spent the last who knows how long just laying in the bed, trying not to panic or cry. You weren’t very successful at either.

The most disturbing thing you’d discovered since you’d woken up here was the set of rings on your left hand. One featured a large diamond, the other was a simpler band filled with comparatively tiny diamonds. The bands were fused together like you remembered your mom’s engagement and wedding rings being. It took a long time to normalize your breathing after that discovery.

Just as you were about to drift asleep again, for want of anything else to do, you heard a few soft beeps, the lock click, and the doorknob move. You leaped up and huddled in the far corner of the room between the wall and the bed, holding a pillow in front of you. There was nothing else in the room to use to defend yourself. Even the lamps were bolted down – you’d checked.

The door slowly opened and a man walked in. He was tall, over 6 feet, and broad. He had dark, soft-looking hair, and a well-kept beard. He wore a gray cotton tee and jeans. If your adrenaline hadn’t been spiking, you would have found him so handsome. But as it was, you pushed yourself further into the corner.

He was carrying a tray, which he set down on one of the nightstands. From your vantage point, you could see a glass of water and a bowl. You weren’t feeling inclined to take anything from this man.

Your eyes cautiously tracked him as he came around to the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice deep but gentle.

You didn’t say anything, just kept watching him. He leveled you with a stern look that sent a chill down your spine. His voice was much more rigid when he said, “I expect an answer when I ask a question, sweetheart.”

You ignored him again, instead asking, “Who are you?”

He took a deep breath, flexing both hands. Extreme irritation passed over his face before it was replaced with a practiced calm. He sat at the foot of the bed and patted the space next to him. “Come sit,” he said. You didn’t move. “Now,” he growled. Something in his tone made it clear, not only that he would move you himself if he had to, but even more so, that you didn’t want it to come to that. You got up and sat on the far edge of the bed. He reached over and grabbed your arm hard, dragging you into his side. You cried out but he shushed you. “Alright,” he said, “I will answer your question once you answer mine. How are you feeling?”

This was the most scared you’d ever been. You had to take a few deep breaths before you were able to say. “I have a headache and I’m a little nauseous. And I’m very scared.”

He gently took your hand in his and cooed at you. “That’d be the drugs they used to knock you out. You’ll feel better when they’re completely out of your system. Eating will help. You can have some soup once we’re done talking.” He paused, for what you didn’t know. You didn’t say anything. He smiled. “You can ask your question now. Good girl waiting for permission.”

Your head swung to look at him. That hadn’t been what you were doing. Had it? You were woozy and scared and just trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. That was most important, so you let his comment go and repeated your question. “Who are you?”

He squeezed your hand. “I’m your husband, sweetheart. My name is Andy.”

That was the answer you’d been terrified of since you’d seen the rings on your finger. He was fucking crazy. He had to be. The best you could do right now was to get as much information out of him as you could. “And where are we? Is this your house?” You were trying to keep your voice steady, but you could hear the tremor in it.

“This is our house, sweetheart. Just outside Boston.”

Your eyes widened and your heart rate picked up in panic. “Boston?? No– That’s– How did I get here?!” This was even worse than you thought. You were nowhere near home, nowhere near anything familiar.

He just looked at you for a moment with narrowed eyes. Then he nodded and said, “Ok, I’m going to be honest and explain it to you, because I think it will help you understand your place here. But in the future, you need to know that I don’t appreciate having to explain myself. Good wives don’t question their husband's actions. Now, since I’m going out of my way to make this clear for you, I expect you to sit quietly and listen. Can you do that for me?”

You clenched your hands into fists, wanting to rage at him for how he was speaking to you like a child, but you knew you needed this information. You needed everything you could get if you were going to get out of here, so you tried to control your breathing and nodded.

He looked at you like he wanted to scold you for something, but then visibly changed his mind and began. “I’ve had a hard life, the last few years especially, I’ve been through a lot. Things haven’t turned out the way they were supposed to. I wanted a family. I thought I had one, but– It wasn’t how it was supposed to be, and then I lost even that. I wanted to try again, but I couldn’t put in all that effort without a guarantee that I wouldn’t wind up with nothing again.

“I’m a lawyer. I used to work as an ADA and now I’m in defense. In both jobs, I’ve made a lot of connections with people from different walks of life. Through that, I found a man who provides a service – if you let him know what you’re looking for, he’ll find you a person who fills those needs. So I told him that I was looking for someone to build a family with, a good wife. He presented me with a few options, and I chose you. For a hefty price, his men picked you up and brought you here. They also put together all new paperwork for you, a whole new identity. The old you doesn’t exist anymore, do you understand? You’re Mrs. Barber now, property of your husband. I bought and paid for you. I own you, every part of you.”

You saw his hand start to move toward your thigh and you jumped up, quickly pressing yourself against the wall. You just stared at him for a moment and then the panic truly hit you, but this time, it was accompanied by blinding anger. “That’s human trafficking, you complete fucking psycho! The fuck is wrong with you?!” Once you’d started screaming, you couldn’t stop. “You can’t just buy a wife, you fucking cuck! I’m a person! People are going to look for me!” He stood up and came at you and you swung out with your fists, your nails, your knees, whatever you fucking could. You connected a few times, drew a grunt from him before he somehow pinned your wrists behind your back. You screamed as loud as you could, but it did nothing.

He frog-marched you out of the room as he said, “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this so soon, but you need a timeout, honey. Some time to calm down in the quiet room, and then we can try again and go over the rules. You just need some time to think by yourself.”

You tried to pay attention as he pushed you through what looked like a little apartment: a living room, a kitchenette. He stopped at an innocuous-looking door with a keypad on it, just like the one in the bedroom. He turned you away so you couldn’t see as he entered the code, one hand still keeping your wrists in a bruising grip. Before you’d even realized he’d opened the door, he was shoving you into the room so hard you briefly left the ground. The door slammed shut behind you. You hit the floor hard and groaned. You stumbled up onto your hands and knees. You heard another beep, then the grinding of a lock. Then nothing.

The room was pitch black. You weren’t even sure where the door was now, as there wasn’t any light coming through the cracks. You crawled around, trying to get an idea of the space. It was small and empty as far as you could tell. But there was a low rumbling noise that seemed to fill the room. You couldn’t pinpoint the source just from listening, it felt like it was coming from everywhere. The floor under your hands was bare, concrete. Your hands brushed through cobwebs and other detritus you couldn’t see. You cautiously held a hand out as you continued to try to map out the room, terrified you’d smack your face right into the wall. It made contact with something hot and sharp. You pulled it back with a hiss, pain radiating through your palm. You felt the first few wet drops. Shit. You were bleeding. You’d cut yourself. Fuck. “Hey!” you called out as loud as you could. There was no answer. “Hey!” you tried again, “I’m hurt! I’m bleeding!” No response. “WHAT THE FUCK?” You were screaming now. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! LET ME OUT!” Nothing. God, this room was already lightproof, maybe it was soundproof, too. He wouldn’t be able to hear you, wouldn’t know you were hurt. You couldn’t tell how badly you’d cut your hand so you raised it above your head, hoping that might at least slow down the bleeding. It was dirty you were sure. God, how long did it take for cuts to get infected? You hoped you wouldn’t find out. You didn’t even know what you’d cut it on. What if it was rusty? Shit, when was your last tetanus booster? You couldn’t remember exactly. Fuck. You really didn’t want to die from tetanus in some random basement in Massachusetts. A tear rolled down your cheek. He couldn’t leave you in here too long, could he? No. He would come get you soon.

You had no idea how long you’d been sitting in the dark, your knees pulled up to your chest, one arm wrapped around them, the other still held in the air. Your shoulder was so sore, but you were too worried to lower your hand. You wished you could see the cut, know exactly how bad it was. You wished you knew how much time had passed. With no frame of reference, no external indicators, you were afraid you’d lost the ability to tell the difference between hours and minutes. It’d been hours. It had to have been hours. How long was he going to leave you here? He had to come back soon. He had to. You took some perverse comfort in the fact that he’d spent a lot of money on you. That had to mean that he wouldn’t just leave you here. He’d want a return on his investment. You tried to ignore the chills that thought gave you.

You’d been crying on and off. It made you feel pathetic but what else were you supposed to do? The panic, too, ebbed and flowed. You’d been trying to keep your breathing even, trying to ignore how small the space was, how dirty, how dark. Deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. It wasn’t doing much to calm you, but at least it gave you something to focus on.

Just as a fresh wave of tears overtook you, a blinding light came in, directly opposite you. You squinted and raised your uninjured hand in front of your eyes, but that didn’t do much to help.

“Oh sweetheart,” Andy’s voice cooed, before gently lifting you by your arms and herding you out. He half-carried you through the finished part of the basement while your eyes continued to adjust. Before you knew it, you were back in the bedroom you’d started in. He gently sat you down on the edge of the bed and crouched in front of you. You felt dazed. The room was too bright. You didn’t know how you could keep breaking the record for the most scared you’d ever been. There had to be a ceiling, a limit. You’d hit it soon, wouldn’t you?

You still had your hand raised and cradled to your chest. Andy touched your wrist and you flinched. He raised an eyebrow in question and you whispered, “I got hurt.” He sighed and gently tugged at your wrist again. This time you let him guide your arm down, moving your hand so you both could see it. It was a little grimy and definitely red, slightly swollen maybe. There was a little dried blood, but not much. The cut was so much more shallow than you’d imagined when you were trapped in that room alone. You felt incredibly foolish. You’d thought you were going to lose your hand over a glorified paper cut.

Andy carefully moved his thumb over a raised patch under the cut that you now realized was a minor burn. “Did you touch the furnace?” The furnace – that’s what’d been making that noise. That’s what you’d cut yourself on. That’s where he’d thrown you. What the fuck? You were lucky you hadn’t hurt yourself even worse. You looked up from your hand to see him frowning at you. “Why would you do that? Sweetheart, you have to be more careful. That was a very stupid thing to do.” He got up and walked into the ensuite, opening a cabinet under the sink.

Was he seriously scolding you for getting hurt in a dangerous room he’d locked you in?? The rage from earlier was starting to return, but it was still tempered by your fear. You did your best to keep your voice even when you replied, “It was completely dark in there. I couldn’t see anything.” A little growl came through your words, but it wasn’t anything compared to what you were actually feeling.

He came back holding a small first-aid kit. “Well then that’s a good reason to keep your hands to yourself, isn’t it?” He sat down and opened the kit, pulling out a few wipes and beginning to somewhat roughly clean your hand. “Sweetheart, I’m here to take care of you. That’s my job as your husband. But I need you to be a good girl and not put yourself in harm’s way.”

“You threw me in there!” you said, your voice starting to get louder, despite your best efforts to keep calm.

“Because you were bad and needed a time-out!” he yelled back at you. He threw the dirty wipes into the trashcan beside the bed and took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. He grabbed an ointment from the kit and began applying it to your hand. “That’s why we’re going to talk about rules now. They’re there to keep you safe and both of us happy. When you don’t follow them, something like this can happen.”

You didn’t say anything. You had to be smart if you were ever going to get out of here and antagonizing him wasn’t smart. He didn’t seem to expect a response anyway as he just silently placed a bandage on your hand and then got up and put the kit away. He came back and sat right next to you, turning so he could look into your eyes. You tried to turn your head away, but he grabbed your chin and forced eye contact.

“Alright,” he said, his tone already so fucking patronizing. “A good thing that came out of your little tantrum is that now we know the areas we need to focus on most for improvement – manners, respect, and attitude. I did some thinking during your quiet time too, and I’ve adjusted your training schedule to focus on these things. It’ll be good for both of us.”

What the actual fucking fuck? “Training schedule?” was all you managed to get out.

Andy nodded. “I’m sure you’ve figured out that we’re in the basement right now. I have a beautiful big house upstairs that I can’t wait to show you. But you’re going to have to earn it first, prove to me that you know how to be good, that I can trust you before we can go upstairs. That’s what the training will do. I’m going to teach you exactly how to be perfect for me, everything I want, and in return I’m going to give you a perfect life, so much better than what you had before. We’re going to be so happy together, sweetheart. I promise.

“Now, it’s going to take time. I understand that. And I’m going to be patient with you. I know what your life was like before. I know that you probably never expected that you’d ever get to have this. Change can be scary. Dreams coming true, it’s scary. But I’ll be here to guide you through it all. I’m going to give you everything and all I ask of you in return is that you be good for me. That’s all.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to sob. What the hell was this? How could this man, this stranger, be so completely deranged? Be smart, you chanted to yourself. Be smart be smart be smart. And if you opened your mouth now, you knew exactly what would come out. So you kept it shut and let him continue.

“So first, let’s talk about your tantrum. I don’t appreciate being spoken to that way. The language and the names, it’s unacceptable. So, no swearing going forward. And I think a good rule for you while we’re downstairs will be for you to address me as Sir. Once we’ve moved upstairs, you’ll be allowed to call me Andy, but whenever we’re down here, it’s Sir. Do you understand?” He looked at you expectantly. You clenched your jaw and nodded. “I expect a verbal response when I speak to you, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you gritted out. He raised an eyebrow at you and his gaze hardened. It took you a moment to realize your mistake. “Yes, sir,” you corrected yourself.

“Very good. As your husband, I expect you to give me the respect I deserve. That’s something we’ll work on. It’s very important that you don’t question me. I know what’s best for you and you need to trust that I will give you whatever information you need to have. If I haven’t told you something, it’s because you don’t need to know, ok?”

He paused again. What kind of Stepford hell was this? What had you done to deserve this? You took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Then, finally, you were able to force out a “Yes, sir.”

He smiled. “You’re so smart, sweetheart. You’ll be upstairs in no time. Now, you’ll start learning your routine tomorrow. I’ve taken some time off work for our honeymoon, so I’ll have plenty of time to get you settled and acclimated. We’ll go over wardrobe and makeup requirements in the morning too. Now,” he slapped his thighs and stood up, “your soup from earlier went cold, so how about I go get you a fresh bowl while you take a quick shower and get all that dust and grime from the Quiet Room off you?”

You held back a grimace at him calling that room that, as he walked over to one of the other doors and unlocked it. He talked to you like you were a child. All of this was so fucked up. But a shower sounded incredible. You had no idea how long it’d been since you’d had one. So you just nodded and let out a quiet, “Yes, sir.”

He beamed at you. “Everything you’ll need is in the bathroom. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

You stood and waited til he was out the door, listening to the beeps and grinding locks once he was gone. Shit. You were really fucked. You went into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. There was no lock on the inside. Of course, there wasn’t.

You didn’t waste much time in the bathroom, desperate for a hot shower. You vaguely registered that the counter was stocked with all sorts of beauty aids – expensive lotions and serums like he’d bought out a department store beauty counter. The shower too, was equally well stocked. So much fancier than the Target sale items you usually stocked your bathroom with. But the shower felt incredible and that’s what you chose to focus on.

When you were finished, you came out of the shower to see that the bathroom door was open. You could hear Andy moving around in the bedroom. You shuddered and quickly wrapped a plush towel around yourself. There was a fresh nightgown waiting for you, soft pink, all silk and lace. You grimaced and wondered what you’d need to do to get a pair of sleep shorts and an old T-shirt to sleep in. Probably more than you were willing to do, if it was even possible. You dried off quickly and slipped the nightgown on.

When you exited the bathroom, he was sitting on the bed, the tray of food sitting next to him. There was a bowl of soup and a cup of water, along with a small plate with a few crackers. The dishes and utensils were all plastic. Nothing you could hurt him with. You sat down and watched him carefully as you lifted the tray onto your lap. He didn’t say anything so it must have been allowed. Your hand shook as you brought the first spoonful up to your lips. The soup was warm, not hot, certainly not scalding. Another hope dashed. Throwing it at him would only result in him getting wet. And angry. Not worth it.

As you ate, you realized just how hungry you actually were. The nausea from whatever drugs you’d had had covered it up, but you were starving. You barely even tasted the soup, you just needed to eat. God, how long had it been since you’d had food? You wouldn’t bother asking Andy. You knew he wouldn’t give you an answer.

After he watched you eat for a few minutes, he said, “What do you say, sweetheart?”

God, he used that word like it was your name. It made you want to scream. You swallowed down all your anger and a spoonful of soup before you said, “Thank you, sir.”

He gave you a satisfied smile. “See,” he said, “I knew you had good manners.”

You shoved the spoon into your mouth to prevent any sort of comeback. This fucking asshole. Luckily he let you eat the rest of your meal in peace. But he never took his eyes off you.

Once you were done, Andy put the tray on the dresser and then declared it bedtime. You watched him cautiously, as he went to the dresser and took out a pair of boxers and a cotton tee. He changed right in the middle of the room and you turned your head away. You caught flashes of skin, that if he’d been anyone else, in any other circumstances, would have had you drooling. It was becoming hard to breathe again. What else would he demand from you tonight?

You chanced a glance back up at him to find him changed and staring at you. You swallowed nervously. “Come here,” he said firmly, holding his hand out to you. You slowly, so slowly, made your way to him. As soon as you were in reach, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you the rest of the way in so that you were nestled into his chest. “I know,” he said, stroking one hand down your back, “that we’re both thinking about our first time together, but I’d like to wait.” He ran the fingers of his other hand down the strap of your nightgown, slipping onto your bare skin. “Give you a chance to get fully adjusted. Give us both a chance to get to know each other.” His voice slipped down an octave as his fingers traveled across your chest. Your body bowed to get away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “Give us a chance to enjoy each other.” His breath hitched as his hand traveled down to your breast, the other hand on your back had stilled, holding you close, stopping you from getting away. He moved his head as close as he could to yours and whispered, “I want it to be special.” Then, before you could try to back away, he was kissing you. It was firm and demanding, giving you no option but to let it happen. He angled his growing erection into your thigh, and with the way he was holding you, you couldn’t lean away from it. His tongue forced its way into your mouth and you couldn’t help the way you whimpered. It felt like it might go on forever, when he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m so happy you’re mine,” he whispered.

And then he was out of your space, leaving you trying to breathe again, alone in the middle of the room, as he climbed into the bed. You just stood there, unsure of what to do, your lips still tingling. Once he was settled on the side of the bed closest to the door, he called your name. “Come to bed now,” he said, and there was no mistaking it for anything other than an order. You ducked your head and climbed onto the bed, terrified of what might come next, but also desperate for sleep. This day had left you exhausted and confused and scared and so angry. It was all too much.

You tried to lie down as close to the edge as you could, but he pulled you in close so that your back was flush to his front, his arm thrown over your waist. “I'm so proud of you,” he whispered into your hair, “getting through your first day without having to go to the punishment room.”

Your mouth went completely dry. A room you hadn’t been to. Somewhere worse than the quiet room. “What's–” your tongue struggled to form the words. You took a breath and tried again. “What's the punishment room?” You caught yourself at the last minute and added a quiet “Sir.”

His hand caressed your side. “You keep being my good girl and you won't have to find out.”

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @foulpersonahandsvoid

#dark andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x female reader #defending jacob #dark fic #dark!andy barber #dark!fic #reader insert #chris evans fanfiction #ce characters #fanfic #trapped au #kris wrote something

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phoenixeclipse-lmkau · 2 months ago

Note

first off let me tell you....I really like all of you write about the shadowpeach x reader from the start until now and I sudden have a very funny imagine that I want to share with you :)

like the other can't understand reader is she speak her original language when the magic does not translate it right? what about something that have happen that make the reader angry at hell like ( someone ( demon or human ) shaming her or talk shit to the spirit or to the little simian right ? I want the reader sometime be feisty and talk back to them with no holding back or even curse them in reader own language....the other maybe not understand what she saying at first but from time their manage to learning about reader language then is would be so funny when their reaction to this you know ? 👀🤣😙

"What did you just say?" Reader asked slowly turning her head around.

The man in front of her laughed, "I said that you're little monster friend deserve to be put to death." He said pointing his blade at Spirit. Spirit didn’t react besides her eyes narrowing, she wasn’t looking for a fight with this human.

*Thump* *Thump*

Reader knew that her monkeys have not always been the best behaved. However she also knew that they were hers, weather they were arguing with other people or keeping her safe. There was good and bad in everyone and she knew that very, very well. She was not about to let this man just say-

*Thump* *Thump*

Her heart pounded in her chest as she gritted her teeth. Spirit was her friend, Spirit was her new sister, she was not about to let someone talk shit about her!

*Thump* *Thump*

“It’s no wonder those disgusting little rodents follow you two around,” The man gestured towards Peaches and Plums who both hissed at him, their tails wrapped around your neck to keep balanced. Both of them huddled closer to you as if your ears from this man’s words.

“Maybe I should-.”

*Snap*

“Go fuck yourself. You think just because you’re some big man that means everything you say or do is okay. Let me tell you it’s not! We have done nothing but try to pass through town peacefully! The only one causing problems is you!” You shout, everyone around you going completely silent. Eyes wide with shock, even your monkeys went silent.

You wouldn’t stand for this! There was no way you’d stand for this! “Get the hell out of our way,” Your words piercingly calm as you stepped forward so your faces were close.

“No one insults my family, Spirit is my sister, Peaches and Plums are my monkeys. So you can go fuck yourself and get the hell out of my way,” Every word pierced the air causing the man to actually stumble back. For a moment it looked as though he was about to say something back but with one look behind you his eyes widened and he scrambled to get as far away as possible.

As soon as he saw the opportunity, the man bolted. Weather it was from you or not was unknown but you didn't really care.

"Hmph, are you okay my sweets? I hope so. That man was a rude- pardon my language... bitch," you grumbled with annoyance lacing your tone.

The monkeys looked at you with shock. Before glancing at each other.

'We're her monkeys!?' Macaque chirped with a blush.

'She's going to be our mate!' Wukong chirped happily brgore also muttering, 'That was hot.'

Macaque whipped his head to look at his mate with an approving look. He agreed, you did look rather hot when you were mad. Spirit didn't understand anything but let out a chuckle, proud of you for standing up for herself.

Here you go! I'm sorry for the wait, anon. But I hope to answer a few more asks today.

I'm also posting at least one chapter today right around noon. 😁 So be sure to check that out.

#dead dove do not eat #sun wukong x macaque #yandere sun wukong #yandere macaque #cursed warlords au #cursed warlords lmk au #reader and oc #sun wukong x reader #macaque x reader #Shadowpeach x reader #Angry reader #shadowpeach x female reader

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deandoesthingstome · 1 year ago

Text

Labyrinth Fantasy

Pairing: Minotaur!Sy x Reader

Summary: There's a new hotel in town. You now know it's for real and you need more.

Word Count: 5.7K

Warnings: 18+, NO MINORS, cunnilingus, p in v (standing and reverse standing cowgirl), monster fucking (right?).

Fantasy Hotel Masterlist

You'd recounted enough of the details to convince your online benefactors that the investment was worth it, but kept enough to yourself to make the experience truly special.

Like, you didn't mention the time stretch at all. Though you had been wondering why the hotel even offered longer booking sessions if the hosts could just snap a finger and keep you satisfied forever. You felt only mild guilt about keeping the image of naked human Walter to yourself. They didn't need to know how good he looked NOT as a monster. You were keeping that for you own private thoughts. But you were bemoaning your current funding situation.

sendmeanangel: ugh, I'm never getting back there!!! MNstrluvr: Listen. There's a way. sendmeanangel: how? I can't get any more shifts at the restaurant. MNstrluvr: let us open a Patreon for you sendmeanangel: I'm NOT giving a recount of this event to total strangers darkgothnightengale: you have no idea who we are sendmeanangel: you are NOT total strangers. I know your favorite coffee and what you're studying at uni and your top 10 comfort movies. I know how you got that scar on your hand. darkgothnightengale: yeah but you didn't know that until you asked. Up to then we were total strangers who loved your work. Just like everyone on Patreon will be only they'll be paying MNstrluvr: yeah and you don't have to tell it to them like you told us. Put a different spin on it. Don't make the story from the perspective of the hotel. Make it a true fairy tale. Red riding hood in the woods and shit. Make him your boyfriend, The Woodsman, who's ready to show you his secret this fine full moon evening. sendmeanangel: oh my goddddddd!!! darkgothnightengale: yeah, but put all the most important details of him in Sendmeanangel: you just want to read about his massive cock splitting you open again darkgothnightengale: i have my needs. Besides, I just mean those details you only know now because you experienced it. You have something to draw from, something to make it real for everyone MNstrluvr: seriously, meana, do it. You will make so much money. You should have been putting your other stories out there long ago but this you can post and sell cause it'll be completely your own content with no re-imagining of existing characters sendmeanangel: okay, but you gotta beta the shit out of this for me. I can't have it sounding like I'm just recounting the whole thing from last night's fuck session with my partner MNstrluvr: 😆 🤣 😂 😹 darkgothnightengale: oh my goddddddd!!!! MNstrluvr: anyway we already created an account. We'll add your email and send you the password reset so you can run it and transfer the money to your bank whenever darkgothnightengale: and as always, no pressure on timing other than knowing you need the money to get back to Walter but I can't wait to read this! sendmeanangel: what if he's not available?

As you clicked Reserve something caught in the back of your mind.

Would Walter care you weren't coming back to see him?

How could he? You spent two hours (or was it more? You could never figure out the time swap calculations) together. You weren't even sure if that was his real name. Sure, you fantasized about him when you got home. You'd been in a fog of post-orgasmic bliss when you saw him in his human form, but that didn't stop you from cataloging every inch you could. Imagining snuggling next to his enormous and furry body wasn't hard.

It was this domestic bliss scene you'd eventually settled on as the opening to your "boyfriend's werewolf confession during an evening walk in the woods" fic that you posted on Patreon. The feedback had been a dream come true.

While the income wasn't as plentiful as you'd hoped, the wages and tips from your extra shifts allowed you to book another stay the following month. Walter was indeed not available on your only open day of the week so you sought out another option and found a four hour time slot with a new-to-you creature.

The listing called him Captain of the Guard.

Something about this fantasy made you select the box at check in specifically requesting your host enter in form. You had missed this at your previous visit, and as you thought back to meeting Walter, you appreciated the gentle way he eased into the scene. But you wanted a little more…mystery? Suspense? apprehension this time. The front desk clerk told you your host's name was Sy, and sent you down to a lower level of the hotel. The only key he provided was the code you punched into the elevator number pad to allow you to press L3.

When the doors opened, you entered a small, rustic room with a hard dirt ground and cool stone walls. You only saw one other door besides the elevator you just stepped through and your mind did some mental gymnastics. Was that the exit to the maze or a bathroom? If it was the bathroom, where was the maze?

A few benches were scattered around and sitting on one was the Offering Tray you purchased, along with a note telling you to dress or undress to your level of comfort and step out into the hall through the door opposite the elevator when you were ready. Okay, door to maze then. But your nervous pee sensation was building. Where was the bathroom???

You knew the elevator was locked after you exited the car, but the note also contained the return code you were welcome to use any time, even before your reservation was over. And the note also revealed the secret to locating the washroom around the corner of one of the walls that you now noticed didn’t quite reach the next wall, causing a little optical illusion that the room was a simple square with no other space. Clever. It reminded you of a scene from a fantasy movie you’d seen when you were younger.

You peed and then undressed for a quick rinse in the surprisingly warm shower. You had imagined the temperature of the liquid streaming over the mini waterfall in this rock room would be ice cold, but it was as if the water was heated to a constant, perfect temperature from a thermal spring. The floors were warm on your bare feet too. You almost had to tear yourself away. There was a fantasy to be had.

You hung your street clothes on the garment hooks and pulled your red cape from your bag. You had researched a few different costume options and came across a clever way to fashion a toga of sorts from the material, albeit a slutty red toga with a giant slit up one thigh. You didn’t bother with underwear this time either. After one last look in the mirror to make sure your nerves weren’t showing too badly, you gathered up the offering of cured meat and stepped into the hall.

The rough hewn stone walls were at least three feet higher than the room you’d just exited. You noticed shelves jutting out occasionally at various heights and made a mental note not to run into them. Not that you planned on running. The ground was soft and sandy, rather than hard packed earth. Even in bare feet, this was going to make running hard. Again, not that you’d planned on running.

Now, which direction? Left was always your gut instinct so you followed the path in that direction, choosing a left turn anytime you came to an intersection. After dead-ending twice in about five minutes, you began to rethink your approach. While you figured it had be wise to build in some extra time to find your treasure, you didn’t want to spend four hours in a fucking maze alone.

As soon as you made the next right, the air shifted. The hairs on the back of your neck stood at attention and a ripple of goosebumps grew up on both arms. You made a few more turns before you began to hear snorts and huffs in the distance. For a moment, you froze, unsure if you wanted to move toward or away from the beast. Not because you didn’t want to meet the beast. But only because you truly couldn’t decide how. Sneak up and surprise him? Or let him chase you?

A new roar announced he was getting closer and you made a snap decision to turn away. Let him find me.

You maybe delayed the introduction by a few minutes. He was adept and clearly knew this maze inside and out while you were still trying to find your footing. You were just about to turn a corner that looked surprisingly familiar when you felt a rumble and the sand shift beneath your feet before you heard a snort and few stamps on the ground.

“Turn around.” Though a command, it came out like a question and you knew this was yet another opportunity for you to provide your consent to the game. Keep walking forward and it would all be over. As a matter of fact, you were convinced your next step forward would take you to the hall where the door to your changing room was. Your turn was deliberate. So was the flash as the cape swished around your legs and settled back into place. Give him a show, you smiled inwardly to yourself, before you wiped that grin right off the face in your mind and dropped your jaw instead.

Before you stood a monster of a man/beast, which explained the rumbling of the ground. You noticed the hooves which explained the stamping sound. As you drew your eyes up his solid and thick legs, you were a little disappointed to see he was wearing a heavy pleated leather skirt which hid any hint of what might be hanging underneath. His biceps bulged and thick veins trailed down each forearm. His chest was broad and teeming with unbridled strength, bare and full of the fur you were hoping to find.

Walter wasn’t the first hairy man you’d been with, but he definitely made you appreciate it more and this beast sported a similar amount. As your gaze met his, you took in the visage of a bull’s head, noticing the ring you expected to see in his nose was not there, but the horns near his ears were. They were massive as well and you had plans.

“Who dares enter my labyrinth?” he demanded as he sauntered ever closer to you. “What little bird has been flitting through these halls?”

You gave your name as you held out the tray in front of you, but he simply stood before you, motionless, save his eyes which roamed over every inch of you. When he returned his gaze to yours, he cocked his head to one side.

“And what am I supposed to do with this?” he roared, obviously unsatisfied with the tray of meat. Did the hotel make a mistake? “Maybe you’re playing a game with me? Is that it? Interrupt my peaceful solitude and taunt me with a delectable offering only to hide it behind a curtain of fabric and an offensive tray of inferior flesh?”

“I … I didn’t know… I didn’t think…” you stammered. Your heart was beating furiously, though he hadn’t taken another step toward you and you weren’t exactly trapped. You were more convinced than ever that if you wanted to escape, the entry room and the elevator were just around the corner. He was giving you time to acclimate to your decision to stay, making sure you weren’t having second thoughts. Though he commanded this hall in this maze, he was letting you call the next shot and you knew you were in no danger. Well, none that you didn’t want.

You set the tray on a ledge nearby, and grabbed fistfuls of your robe in both hands, lifting the material enough to give you the feeling of freedom around your lower legs. Just in case. Not that you were planning on running.

“In this labyrinth, the offerings are usually a little more respectful. Would you like to try your offering again?” Something about his words, the way he cocked his head again, the subtle pawing at the ground, as if he was about to rear up. He wanted you to.

You licked your lips, and nodded. Took one more beat. Then turned and ran. Past the door to the changing room, up the hall to the right, left down the next corridor, then right again. Left. Left. Left. Right. For a moment you imagined he wasn’t right on your tail and then you hit a dead end and he descended on you as you turned to try to escape the hall thinking you might have enough time to head in another direction. Well, around you really. His arms caged you against the wall behind you.

He was so close. His musk was intoxicating and the scent added a little more fuel to the fire already burning in your loins. You peered up into his eyes, which you now noticed weren’t jet black, but rather a deep, dark azure.

“That’s better,” he chuckled. “The offering is always sweeter after a little vigorous activity.”

“I’m so sorry,” you spoke. "I had no idea the offering I was given wouldn't be to your satisfaction. I should have anticipated better for a creature who commands such obedience and reverence as you."

“The tray isn’t the offering, little bird,” he huffed near your ear as you felt a hand drop from the wall beside you to your shoulder and then down to the pivotal point on your costume. One little tug, and, yep, there it went. The makeshift dressing had held up surprisingly well on the chase, but it was designed to come off easily and that it did. He made an approving sound, tracing a finger over one breast and down the valley between both, nearing your apex before he dragged the back of that hand up your belly and around your waist, ending with a firm grip on the meat of your hips.

“What…what is the offering?” you asked, with feigned timidity, as if you didn’t know what he meant. His arms moved to circle your waist and his hands slid to the creases beneath both now bare cheeks.

"I'll take this peach instead," he snorted with what you perceived to be a wink and a grin. He jiggled the flesh of your ass and grinned wider as he caught the moan of pleasure you tried to suppress. "You don’t need to fight it little bird. This is why you're here. To let go of inhibitions and feel free to express your feelings and desires with no judgment. If you like someone paying attention to this luscious cake, you shouldn't have to feel like you have to hide it."

The exchange felt a little out of character for the scene, but you didn’t mind. The chase was fun, but it was going to be even better finding out how this man would take care of your needs. So you let him know.

"Fuck. It feels good to have you touch it. Most men just go straight for the pussy and ignore the pleasure I get from the tease, the idea of you..." you trailed off, uncertain if you wanted to broach that subject here.

"Oh, it's just an idea, huh? Nothing you want to try? Isn't that why you're here?"

You thought about Walter and wondered if Sy was as well endowed under the fabric covering his loins. Surely the beasts at this hotel were all inordinately adept at providing pleasure; that was after all the entire theme. And maybe there were other ways to pleasure a person, and maybe this hotel had them too, but you couldn’t begin to imagine that the size of Sy’s cock wasn’t proportionate to his stature. You weren't quite ready to feel that in your ass.

"It's alright, little bird. We're here for whatever you'd like,” he answered without you even saying a word.

“Can I call you Sy?” you asked, unsure how committed to the bit he’d be.

“Of course, darlin’.” That was an odd Texas drawl that had just overridden the previous enigmatic accent you assumed was meant to convey ancient Greece. He kept the twang when he saw your surprised eyebrow quirk. “We can take this play anywhere you want to go. Though I’m going to make one choice for us.”

He bent to scoop you into his arms, cradling your legs and back as he held you against his chest. You could feel his heart pounding and wondered if he could feel yours, too. You took some slow deep breaths to try to calm yourself.

For a brief moment, you nestled your head against his neck, relishing the feel of the fur against your cheek. Then you turned your head to pay attention to where he was taking you. You figured you would need to make your way out of this maze alone after being well and thoroughly fucked and somehow you imagined you'd still have enough brain cells to remember the path he was taking.

But Sy wasn’t going backwards to any open hall. Instead he was making his way directly into what you took for a dead end. Before he crushed you against the wall, as you were sure he was about to do, Sy stepped through the wall. Sort of. Through another optical illusion that proved the dead end was actually a T intersection.

Sy took the left branch and in a few short strides, you found yourself in a room filled oddly with accouterments of pleasure. A platform bed covered in softness in the middle of the space was an inviting contrast to the sandstone walls you'd acclimated to. In a few spaces, what appeared to be fur rugs hung against the walls. Straight ahead, covered in dozens of warm glowing candles illuminating the room along with hanging oil lamp pendants, sat a wooden altar. Bowls draped with mounds of luscious looking fruit and plates of cured meats and cheeses were nestled in between the candle holders.

As you looked around, you noticed no other entrance to the room, though you kept missing the non-obvious openings, so who knew? The markings on the wall and other accompanying furnishings led you to believe you were not just in some other hall of the maze. You were now in Sy's sanctuary. You’d found, or rather Sy was going to show you, the treasure at the middle of the maze.

Sy set you on your feet and stepped back, as if judging your temperature again.

“Is this where I meet my fate, then?” you asked, with a shy smile.

“You’ll die a thousand little deaths in here,” he promised, returning to the previous accent, and you noticed now a tail swishing behind him. You hadn’t seen that before, but it seemed…excited.

“Sounds amazing.”

With that he rushed you as if you still held the red cape as a target. In what felt like one fell swoop, he bent to capture your hips and swing you forward over his shoulder as he turned and took a few steps toward a fur-lined spot along a wall and none of those movements jostled or startled you. It was as if he was picking up a piece of cloth, the ease with which he maneuvered you and held you stable so nothing hurt. Not his fingers in your hips, not your hips over his shoulder, not your back as he held you captive, pressed against the wall of the hidden sanctuary.

“Walter said you smelled delicious and tasted even better,” Sy huffed with hunger.

Did they talk amongst one another? That hardly seemed ethical. And yet, you’d gossipped and dished about this place and the man you’d met previously. Why would you assume he wouldn’t do the same?

“So that’s the first thing we’ll take care of here,” he continued as he dug his massive thigh into the moist heat between your legs and huffed breath onto your neck. His hands traced the length of your body, down both sides, over your belly, onto the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

In a heartbeat, he had you off the ground, legs spread wide as he continued to trap you against the wall. You tried to hold onto his beefy shoulders for stability, but soon realized he wasn't done lifting you up as you lost purchase.

You were sure you'd be tumbling forward onto the sandy ground in front of you as soon as you cleared another foot of his body, but somehow you remained upright. Well, ‘somehow’ was known but you were still amazed at the raw strength and power Sy possessed to hold you aloft and continue to elevate your body.

With one final shrug, he had your naked form where he wanted it. Legs over shoulders and pussy right at his face waiting to be devoured. You'd had men, including Walter, in between your legs before. A few times when you were upright, and that always put a nice checkmark next to their names in your book. But never while hoisted six feet in the air.

The thick swath of muscle that ascended through your folds filled you with a warmth you had been craving for weeks. Sy somehow managed to manipulate the shape as well, so that he alternated between targeted tight circles with a tip and wide saliva drenched passes that were soon mingling with your own juices.

You had the distinct impression that the wall behind you was for your benefit only. A way to make you more comfortable and secure in the knowledge that he wouldn't let you fall while he was feasting at the altar of your thighs. That he had the ability to hold you upright all on his own while he ate you out.

He made you come at least three times with your back arched against the wall and crying out for relief as you pressed into his head to hold yourself steady, even while he supported you with a hand cradling your ass and another secure against your side. You had wanted to grab his horns, but something told you to stop and wait until you could ask permission. It didn’t seem polite to just grab at them without warning.

“Please, Sy. Please fuck me now,” you pleaded and he skillfully obliged, though he took his sweet time getting there.

He took a few more licks, sucking in the moisture dripping from your pussy before he began to ease your legs off his shoulders, down his body, and around his waist. He settled you there while he reached back to unhook his skirt and drop it to the ground. Then he knelt, still holding you against the wall, and shifted your legs down to rest on his thighs. This gave you an opportunity to peek down and see what he was working with, and not that you were at all surprised but it was still a bit of shock.

A strap of leather remained wrapped around his waist, traveling down both sides of his Orion's belt with the ends connected to a ring that sat stuffed behind his cock. While you contemplated just how long it would let him last, he worked an especially large condom onto his massive member, drifting a knuckle through your folds at every opportunity, given the proximity. He grunted and grinned each time you rolled your hips against his fingers, eagerly seeking more pressure, more depth, more everything.

“Patience, little bird. We’ll get there soon enough,” he warned as he finished affixing the rubber. You watched rapt as he held himself firm in one hand, tugging with the same languid pace he also used to trail his fingers from the other hand around your entrance, flicking at the hidden pearl up top and pressing his thumb deep inside you. It was killing you, but this was not one of the little deaths he had promised and you contemplated telling him so.

As if he could tell just how impatient you were becoming, he finally spread your puffy lips wide and began to nudge the tip of his cock at your soaking entrance. A gasp was all you could manage as he moved to standing at the same time, easing your legs back up around his waist again.

Sy moved into you inch by glorious inch, pausing every so often to make sure you were comfortable. It was certainly not something you were accustomed to, but the feeling was familiar and you knew now he was at least as large as Walter. This was going to be fun. When he was almost seated you asked.

“Sy?”

“Yes, little bird?”

“May I touch them? Hold … hold onto them?”

“Yes, little bird, you may.”

You used the leverage of your grip to drive your hips down the rest of the way onto his colossal cock and willed your inner walls to ease around him. A heat filled you, a desire to grind against him, but he stilled you. Made you sit with the enormity of the situation for a moment while he palmed a breast, rolled a nipple.

“Please, Sy, please. I want you to move. I want you to fuck me into this wall. Please.”

He didn’t make you beg another time. He was slamming into you and somehow rotating his hips in such a way that you felt him in every muscle and nerve in your body. It felt electric and vibrant and you wanted to explode. Sy let you. Fucked you right through it and into the midst of a second one before you could open your eyes again.

You were grinding against him, pulling your body up and pushing back down using his horns to guide you and you were coming hard around him again. His laugh was infectious and you let one out with the third little death in this position.

Suddenly, he spun you away from the wall. For a moment you thought he was heading for the bed, but he lifted you off his cock, then turned you around. He held you against his chest with one arm around your waist as his other hand guided his throbbing member into you once again.

You threw your arms behind you to grasp at his neck as if you needed to somehow participate in keeping yourself steady against him, but he could handle you all on his own. He had your legs splayed wide, an arm under each knee, and he drove up into you as if it was nothing. And while you didn’t need to, you absolutely wanted to slip your hands up a little higher, off his neck, over the back of his head and right back onto those epic horns.

You smoothed your fingers over the bone, into the curl, and held on. It could have been your imagination, but his grunts and snorts seemed to magnify as you did so. Maybe he really liked it? Before you had a chance to consider dragging your fingers along the form again, he hit you with another deep wave of pleasure that had your eyes rolling back into your head as you slumped against him.

And it was like he knew how much more you had in you, because he just kept fucking you right back into consciousness, at which point you did gather your wits and give his horns a few more sensual strokes. It was his groan that told you he was close and you were helping him along. It only took a few more thrusts before you were coming hard around his dick and it seemed like he was letting loose with a roar, too.

He eased his phallus out of your sweaty, quivering body and moved forward to deposit you on the bed, admonishing you to stay put before he disappeared behind another secret wall. You heard water rushing and the sound began to lull you into a light sleep that only the warm, wet cloth pulled you out of.

“Don’t open your eyes just yet,” he spoke, his voice a little less gruff than before.

“I was promised a thousand little deaths,” you teased, unable to move your eyelids or anything else for that matter. His laughter lifted your heart.

“Oh, you want more? Looks like you’d scatter in the wind like a dandelion if I put my cock in you one more time.”

“I wish you weren’t right,” you joined him with a light laugh of your own. “Maybe if I could get a little nap…”

“Unfortunately, time has been flyin’ while we’ve been having fun. Don’t think you’ve got enough left for that.”

You peeled your eyes open, curious about his statement. You hadn’t meant to imply he should give you more time and you were embarrassed that he might think you were being pushy, demanding. You were not prepared for the sight of the man in front of you.

Where Walter’s shift had given him just a little extra height and bulk, not that he needed it to maneuver you around the room, Sy’s return to human form was dramatic. And not that he wasn’t massive in his own right, but the size of the beast that had just fucked you senseless was even more apparent comparatively. You could see he was solid, tree trunks for thighs and branches for arms. His shoulders were wide, chest broad. All the things you’d noticed of the bull, but just scaled down. And still incredibly daunting.

“S’okay I shifted back?” he asked with concern.

“Of course, whatever you… I mean, this is all so new to me. I have no idea what’s allowed. And how much time…” Was what you were thinking about within bounds? “Has it really only been almost four hours? How much time is left? I think I assumed…”

Sy gave another chuckle as you trailed off.

“Yeah, he musta really liked you from the get go.” At your quizzical gaze, Sy continued. “We don’t all have that gift. Walt’s one of the few. And he uses it sparingly. It’s not really a sanctioned hotel offering. If everyone could and did, we’d get nothing but two-hour bookings.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to… I mean, I hope that didn’t sound like I was demanding any special treatment or anything.”

“You honestly still don’t look like you have enough strength left to demand a deep breath,” Sy teased. “Here, lemme give you a hand. We’ll get you cleaned up for real.”

He scooped you off the bed and carried you into the bathroom, outfitted similarly to the entry room. He placed you gently under the warm, rushing waterfall before sudsing you up with a shower gel that smelled surprisingly like something you already owned. You watched as his hands slid over your body, easing the soap down your legs and guiding the water to rinse you off.

“Sy,” you began, wondering if you should even bring it up, but as he stood to grab a towel for you, the shape you thought you’d seen as he washed you was even more apparent. “Is it allowed? Do we have time … Can I…help you with this?”

You reached for him, circling a hand around his obvious erection and tugging gently. His eyes closed slowly as he dropped his head back with a deep sigh, before he wrapped his arms around you and drew you to him. He put a palm against your cheek and tilted your head to train his beautiful blue eyes on yours as he spoke.

“It’s technically not allowed.” Your heart sank at his words. “But Imma make it good for you one last time anyway.”

You let the towel drop to the floor as he lifted you to move back out to the bed. He set you down and you watched him climb onto the mattress, expecting him to grab a condom and crawl over you, or flip you over. When he settled himself between your legs, it wasn’t his cock that penetrated you. Sy put his mouth over your pussy again and the moan that escaped his throat had enough vibration you were sure you could come from that alone.

He was better. He was unbelievably better than Walter at this. It wasn’t something you were particularly proud to be thinking, but truth was where you found it and this was the truth. Sy was skilled and all the tricks he used in Minotaur form, he used here as well. You were squirming within moments, grinding up into his face and grabbing onto his freshly shaved head to help keep him where he’d do the most damage in the quickest amount of time. Not that he needed your help, because he was fucking good at this. He knew how to use his tongue and lips and, yes, teeth, gently, and yes fingers, deep and deft. And if you weren’t mistaken, he was squirming, too.

You could see his ass wiggling and humping into the bed and if you weren’t losing your own damn mind you’d have noticed his hips stuttering as he came into the mattress right around the time his fingers landed back on the spot that, in combination with the movement of his tongue, had you screaming his name.

He let you linger in bed a moment, catching your breath while he slipped on a pair of white, slouchy linen pants before he held out his hand to help you off the bed.

“Here,” he pulled the sheet around you with a soft chuckle and a grin. “This’ll be more comfortable than traipsing back to the elevator naked. I’ll show you the way.”

Sy led you back to the entry room, stopping along the way for a small detour to find your discarded cloak down the dead end hall. You swapped material with him as he deposited you outside the changing room and wished you a wonderful day.

“Come back and see us again, sometime. It was a pleasure,” he tilted his head at you as you stepped backwards into the room.

“The pleasure was all mine,” you replied.

“Don’t be too sure about that, now.”

Bonus Edit: Absolutely GORGEOUS headers made for me by my wonderful friend in fic @geralts-yenn:

Everything HC Taglist: (as always, let me know if you want on or off)

@sillyrabbit81 @mayloma @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @fvckinghenrycavill @kebabgirl67 @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetdreamsofgelato @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @just-chirpin @thesaucynomad @valacirca @henryownsme @summersong69 @foxyjwls007 @peyton-warren

Special tag: @kittenofdoomage (cause sometimes you love my stuff and this one's another monster fucker lol!)

Tags from Werewolf!walter (if you commented):

@ellethespaceunicorn @juliaorpll78 @martha-oi @cardierreh15 @cinnamoroll-things @caramariehurst @zombicupcake3 @openup-yourmind @shellyshellshell @nickfowlerrr @greensleeves888 @misshinson @thelastsock @princessaxoo @augustsprincess @justjulie1105 @minimin1993 if you asked and aren't here, Tumblr won’t let me tag you. Sorry!

#captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson #syverson fanfiction #syverson x reader #syverson #minotaur!syverson #minotaur!syverson x reader #spoopy season #henry cavill characters #labyrinth fantasy #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #mine #deandoesthingstome

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chelseaknoo · 7 days ago

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I thought of this funny idea.The reader and eminem are married and she's like a supermodel.What Marshall doesn’t know about her is that she has 2 other identical sisters making them triplets.The reader decides to prank Marshall ,making him think he's going insane while recording 🤣

Eminem x model! Reader

Plot:You Decide to Prank Your Rapper Husband with Your Twin Sisters.

As close as you are to your sisters, they’ve always been a huge part of your life, and you’ve shared everything together—except for this little secret. Now, you're feeling playful and want to prank Marshall with your sisters. You’ve been planning it for a while, coordinating with your sisters to make sure everything goes perfectly.

As the day of the prank approaches, you can’t help but smile, knowing that it’ll be a fun, lighthearted moment in your already exciting life with Marshall.

You walked up to him slowly, your bare feet making no sound against the tiled floor. With a slight tilt of your head, you let your lashes flutter, your lips curving into a playful smile. Standing close enough for the warmth of your body to brush against his arm, you reached out and lightly trailed a finger along his forearm.

“Marshall…” you murmured, your voice soft and sultry, as though the words themselves carried a secret. His eyes flicked from his phone to you, curiosity replacing his distraction.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” you whispered, leaning in just enough for your robe to part slightly at the neckline, revealing a glimpse of lace. “I miss you.” Your tone was a blend of longing and mischief, every word laced with invitation.

With a gentle touch, you rested your hand against his chest, your eyes locking onto his. “Why don’t you come to bed with me?” you asked, your voice like silk itself, smooth and irresistible.

Marshall’s eyebrows lifted slightly as he locked his phone and set it down on the counter. His lips curved into a small smirk as he looked you over, his eyes lingering on the soft shimmer of your silk robe and the teasing glimpse of lace beneath it.

“Well, aren’t you full of surprises this morning,” he said, his voice low and amused. He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as though trying to appear unfazed. But you caught the flicker of interest in his gaze—he wasn’t fooling anyone.

You tilted your head, your lashes fluttering again. “I’ve been full of surprises since the day you met me,” you teased, letting your fingers trail down his chest slowly. “But I think you’ll like this one.”

Marshall chuckled softly, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Oh, I’m sure I will. But tell me something…” He leaned down, bringing his face closer to yours. “What’s got you in this kind of mood?”

You shrugged innocently, though the small, sly smile on your lips betrayed you. “Can’t a wife just miss her husband? Or do I need a reason to want to spend some time with you?”

Marshall let out a mock sigh of defeat, his hands resting at your waist. “You really know how to make a guy feel guilty, huh?”

“Guilty enough to follow me upstairs?” you asked, your tone playful but insistent as you tugged lightly on his shirt.

His smirk turned into a full grin as he took a step closer, his hands sliding to the small of your back. “Lead the way, Mrs. Mathers.

After you both walked upstairs, Marshall, unable to contain his desire, pushed you gently onto the bed. He began to kiss you passionately, his lips roaming all over your face, your mouth, expressing the love and hunger he felt for you in the moment. His hands slid over your body, his touch electrifying as he showered you with affection, making your heart race.

However, as things started to heat up, Marshall paused for a moment, his hand reaching towards the drawer to grab a condom. But to his surprise, he found that the drawer was empty. His brows furrowed in mild frustration, and he quickly pulled away from you, muttering a quiet curse under his breath. “Hold on, babe. I’ll be right back.”

He kissed you one last time before getting up, his eyes still filled with desire as he made his way to the closet downstairs to grab the box of condoms.

As Marshall opened the closet, rummaging through the shelves to find the box of condoms, he suddenly heard a voice that made him freeze in his tracks. "Hey, babe," came your usual flirty tone, playful and seductive, but it sounded as though it was coming from behind him. He turned around, expecting to see you standing there, but what he saw left him momentarily speechless.

There, standing in the doorway, was “you”—or at least, someone who looked exactly like you. She wore the same outfit you had on earlier, the same familiar smile, the same playful glint in her eyes. The resemblance was so uncanny that Marshall blinked in disbelief, his mind racing to make sense of what he was seeing. He had just left you in the bedroom, lying on the bed, and now here you were, standing in front of him, calling him “babe” with that same flirtatious tone.

Confusion swept over him as he tried to process the situation. His gaze shifted from the woman standing before him to the bedroom where he had left you moments ago. How could this be? Wasn’t she just lying there on the bed, her body warm and relaxed?

Before he could question it further, the woman who looked like you reached out and touched him, her hand lightly grazing his chest. "You look so good," she purred, her fingers trailing down his shirt as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. Marshall stood frozen, completely baffled. He couldn’t understand what was happening, but everything about her—her voice, her movements, even the way she called him "babe"—was so familiar.

In a state of confusion, he took a step back, his mind racing. What was going on? How could you be in two places at once? Had he lost track of what was happening? Was he dreaming? His thoughts were spinning as he tried to make sense of the impossible situation.

The woman who looked exactly like you stepped closer, her eyes locking with Marshall’s as she flashed a seductive smile. "So," she began, her voice soft and inviting, "how about we watch a movie together?" She raised an eyebrow, her playful tone making the suggestion sound more like a command than a casual offer.

Marshall’s heart skipped a beat, his confusion deepening. A movie?But just moments ago, you had asked him to come to bed with you, your words full of passion and desire. Now, this woman—who was supposed to be you—was suggesting something completely different. His brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

"Wait," he stammered, his mind racing. "But... didn’t you just say you wanted to go to bed?" He looked at her, still reeling from the sudden shift in behavior. It felt like something was terribly wrong, but everything about this woman mirrored you—her voice, her look, even the way she moved.

She chuckled softly, brushing off his confusion with a casual wave of her hand. "What are you talking about?" she asked with a coy smile, her tone almost mocking. "I didn’t say anything like that. Now come on, hurry up and follow me," she urged, her voice taking on a more insistent note. She gave him a playful nudge, guiding him toward the living room. "The movie’s waiting."

Marshall stood there, frozen for a moment, trying to process everything. Was he imagining things? Was he somehow caught in a strange, surreal moment where his own senses were betraying him? He had just been in the bedroom, and you had clearly asked him to come to bed. Now, this woman—this version of you—was acting as though nothing had happened, inviting him to do something completely different. It didn’t make sense.

His heart raced as he followed her, his mind reeling with questions. He wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. The woman in front of him smiled again, leading him into the next room as if nothing unusual had occurred, leaving him with more questions than answers.

As Marshall walked with the woman who looked exactly like you, his mind was still spinning with questions. Suddenly, another figure appeared from the hallway, stopping him in his tracks. It was you—or so it seemed. This woman was identical to the first, wearing the same radiant smile, her voice dripping with flirtation as she stepped close and touched his arm.

"Hey, baby," she cooed, her fingers lightly brushing his bicep. "Let’s go shopping. I saw this jacket today that you’d look so sexy in." Her tone was playful, but her touch was lingering, her gaze locked on his.

Marshall’s eyes widened, and he took a half-step back, glancing between the two women. His brain struggled to keep up. "Wait... what the hell is going on here?" he muttered, his voice laced with disbelief. He looked at the second woman, then back at the first, his confusion mounting by the second. They were identical, down to every detail—their outfits, their voices, the way they smiled at him.

Before he could even try to untangle the madness, you appeared at the top of the stairs. "Marshall?" you called out, your voice laced with playful impatience as you made your way down. "What’s taking so long? I’ve been waiting for you." Your expression was cool and composed, as if you didn’t notice the two women standing in the hallway.

Marshall turned to you, relief flickering in his eyes—but it was short-lived. He gestured wildly at the two identical women. "Do you see this?" he asked, his voice an octave higher than usual. "What—how—" He was at a loss for words, his thoughts completely scrambled.

But you remained calm, brushing past the other two women as though they didn’t exist. "What are you talking about?" you asked innocently, pretending not to notice the chaos.

Marshall blinked, his head snapping between all three of you. "What the hell is going on here?" he demanded, his voice full of frustration and bewilderment. "How are there three of you? And why aren’t you saying anything about this?" he asked, pointing at you.

You simply shrugged, fighting back a smirk. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe. Maybe you’re just tired," you said, feigning innocence as you casually leaned against the banister.

Marshall groaned, running a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of the impossible scene unfolding in front of him. "This... this isn’t normal," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "You can’t all be you."

The other two women grinned, each stepping closer to him, leaving him completely trapped in a whirlwind of confusion. Meanwhile, you stood back, struggling to keep a straight face as you watched your prank play out exactly as planned.

He turned to you, his eyes desperate. “You’re the real one, right? Please tell me you’re the real one.”

You bit your lip, pretending to think it over. “Hmm… maybe I am,” you said coyly, drawing out the moment. “Or maybe I’m not.”

Marshall groaned, burying his face in his hands. “This isn’t funny anymore!” he said, his voice muffled.

The three of you exchanged amused looks, barely able to hold in your laughter as the prank continued to unfold.

As Marshall stood there, completely overwhelmed, you and your sisters could no longer hold it in. Laughter erupted from all three of you, echoing through the hallway. It started as a soft giggle but quickly turned into full-blown, uncontrollable laughter, tears streaming down your faces as you clutched your sides.

Marshall blinked, his brows furrowing as he looked at each of you. “Wait, what—what’s so funny?” he stammered, his voice tinged with frustration and bewilderment. “What the hell is going on here?”

One of your sisters wiped a tear from her eye, barely able to contain herself. “Oh my god, his face,” she managed to choke out between laughs, pointing at him. “He looks like he’s seen a ghost!”

The other sister doubled over, clutching her stomach. “Marshall, you should’ve seen yourself! You were *so* confused!”

You, still laughing, finally stepped forward and placed a hand on his chest, trying to catch your breath. “Babe, calm down,” you said, your voice trembling with amusement. “It’s a prank. These are my sisters.”

Marshall’s jaw dropped, and he looked between the three of you again, his confusion slowly giving way to realization. “Wait... sisters?” he repeated, his voice rising. “You’re telling me there’s *three* of you?”

You nodded, grinning. “Yep. Identical triplets.” You gestured to your sisters, who stood there grinning like Cheshire cats. “I can’t believe I never told you. I figured it was time to introduce them... in our own way.”

Marshall blinked a few times, his brain still catching up. “Triplets? Are you kidding me? You mean to tell me this whole time I’ve been with you, and I never knew you had two carbon copies running around?”

Your sisters burst into laughter again, one of them playfully nudging his arm. “Carbon copies? Ouch, Marshall,” one of them teased. “We prefer ‘flawless originals.’”

The other sister chimed in, smirking. “Don’t take it too hard. She wanted to see how long she could keep it a secret. And well... this was too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

Marshall groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe this. You seriously let me think I was losing my mind!” He looked at you, half-annoyed but mostly bewildered. “How long have you been planning this?”

You shrugged, a sly smile on your face. “A while. I knew it would get you good.”

Marshall sighed, shaking his head, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered. “All of you.”

One of your sisters grinned. “We take that as a compliment.”

The tension finally broke as Marshall let out a chuckle, the absurdity of the situation sinking in. “You got me,” he admitted, holding up his hands. “I’ll give you that. But don’t think I’m letting you off the hook that easily. Payback’s coming.”

You leaned in, wrapping your arms around him with a laugh. “Oh, I’m sure it is. But admit it—you’ll never forget this moment.”

Marshall shook his head, a bemused smile on his face as he glanced at your sisters. “Yeah, you’re right about that. Triplets. Unbelievable.”

#eminem x reader #marshall mathers x reader #eminem #eminem imagine #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers #slim shady

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wizzdot · 4 months ago

Text

The Patron Saint of One Way Trips

Ch4

Description: chapter 4 - I’m not entirely sure if this is any good. I need to go through and edit it but I’ll do that when I’m closer to knowing what’s actually gonna happen 🤣 we will wait and see! I’ve posted this on ao3 as well - same username and title. I love Wes Anderson, hence the Isle of Dogs theme. Feel that it fits the theme of this fic too. Anyhoo..

I allow Gaz to lead me to a well lit room. It looks like some sort of living area. Comfortable sofas and carpeted floors. This was totally foreign to me after my time spent in the facility. I felt so out of place. I flit my gaze to Gaz who must notice my discomfort or awkwardness, and he beckons at me to sit down on the sofa. I am still zipped up inside his warm jacket, which smells of a warm vanilla scent mixed with some variation of citrus fruit.. I can't quite put my finger on it, but it is comforting and calming. I try not to make it obvious that I am taking in his scent.

The others are already situated in their seats. I feel all of their eyes itching into my skin. I shrink back into myself again. The pack Alpha, their Captain, clears his gruff throat before speaking. "We have received information from Laswell. She has found your file and is going to send it over as soon as it is secured in the system.. she has told us you are not a direct threat to us. Is this correct, Laika? Can we trust you?"

I feel like scoffing at him. Me? Can they trust me? It's almost laughable that a pack of four huge Alpha's think that I, a drugged, undesignated girl, could threaten them. Not to mention that I am not in the best of shape due to lack of nutrition and poor sleeping habits. "Well..?" he prompts. I met his gaze for the first time since they'd found me. "I pose no threat to you or your pack members, Captain" - I decide to address him officially as pack Alpha. He stands a little straighter than he was before, obviously happy with my answer. I feel a sense of relief wash over me before dropping my gaze back to the floor.

A growl echoes through the silence, the others all looking between each other to find the source of the sound. Their eyes land on me. I can feel my face redden under their scrutiny - my stomach is the source of the growl. "S-sorry" I stutter anxiously. Gaz steps forward slowly and smiles down at me. "C'mon, let's go and get some food. I could eat too." He nods towards the left and I follow the motion with my eyes and see an open door to what looks like a kitchen. I stand up nervously and follow Gaz, taking the widest possible route around the masked man and Soap, still not trusting them.

I step into the kitchen area and Gaz opens the fridge and inspects the contents. "What d'ya like?" he asks. I shrug. "Not really eaten much since- since I've been their asset.. I-I used to like soup though.." - "Soup? Let me check the cupboards. Think we've got tomato.." He moves around the kitchen smoothly, opening and closing cupboards when he doesn't find what he is looking for. I stand in the corner quietly, trying to avoid getting in the way. "C'mere" he beckons me over - "tomato or chicken?" he nods to a stack of four tins -two of each flavour- stacked neatly in the overhead cupboard. "J-just whatever is spare will be nice. Th-thanks" I whisper. "C'mon, love, try to stop being so shy with me.. you can trust me, even if you aren't sure about my packmates yet, yeah? I promise you they're good men underneath their tough exteriors.." he tries to convince me. "S-sorry.. I'll try harder" I murmur. I decide to try and be bold - I step closer to him and look over his shoulder into the cupboard to inspect the tins of soup. "Tomato would be nice.." I utter quietly. Gaz's smile is instant. It lights up the entire room, my eyes drawn to it. Wow - he had beautiful teeth. Sharp canines, gleaming white.. It reminded me that my teeth had been neglected - only able to brush them a couple of times a week when they allowed me to shower. I suddenly find myself feeling self-conscious. I haven't even properly looked in a mirror for at least a year..

I step back again, feeling a little anxious after my inner thoughts had caught up with me. Damn him and his big, perfect smile. And his deep, kind eyes. "How buttery do you want your bread?" The question snaps me out of it. "Butter?.. uhm.. same as you?" I question my own answer. "I've not had butter for ages. Just stale or mouldy bread.." I admit. He sighs sadly, but immediately tries to cheer me up. "You should see how Soap takes his bread. I swear he would use an entire block of butter per slice if he could. It's gross" he says jokingly. I release the smallest giggle at that. He is smiling so brightly now that he knows that he successfully made me laugh. My defences drop for a split second thanks to the growing comfort I am feeling in Gaz's presence, and my mouth blurts out before I can catch it "they scare me..”

Gaz snaps his gaze back down to mine - "What? Who? Soap..? He is harmless" - "and the masked one" I add blushing, anxiously. "That's Ghost - the masked one. He can take a while to warm up to strangers.. he won't hurt you though. Promise" he reassures me. My eyes follow his hand closely as he gently places it on my shoulder, attempting to comfort me, I assume. I try not to tense up or flinch at the soft touch. I just stare at his hand until he slowly withdraws it. I jump slightly when the microwave dings. Gaz pours the soup into a bowl and hands it to me with a plate full of buttered bread. I stand there confused, just staring at the food that I am holding.

"C'mon, hope you don't mind eating on the sofa. We usually just eat off our laps.." he shrugs. "It smells nice.." I compliment, following him as he holds the kitchen door open for me seeing as I had my hands full. I, once again, take the widest route around Soap and Ghost.. I sit down at the very end of the sofa and wait for Gaz to sit in the place next to me, subconsciously using him as a barrier to the outside room.

"What did Gaz make you for tea, lass?" the rich Scottish voice chirped. I jump in my seat slightly. I quietly respond "Tomato soup" without looking at him, remaining hidden behind Gaz's body. Soap leans forward and looks right at me "Smells delicious. Any leftovers, Gaz?" he asks. "Make your own... tins are in the cupboard" - "Awkt, but you made her some.." - "I'm not microwaving soup for you, Soap, piss of mate" - "Fuck sake, ya prick, though we were supposed to be packmates.." The duo go back and forward like this in a light hearted tone for a couple of minutes. "I - I don't mind letting you have this.." I offer anxiously, shakily holding my plate out towards Gaz, feeling guilty that I'd taken their food.

Gaz gently guides the plate back into my lap. "Don't be silly, bug, you haven't even started it and you haven't eaten properly for ages. Get eating!" He instructs, I listen - ever obedient. I gently lift the spoon to my mouth and slurp the soup into my mouth. I swear it's the best thing I've ever tasted. I hum quietly to myself. Unbeknownst to me, Gaz and Soap are watching me with a fond smile on their faces. I eat about half of the bowl, and a slice of bread before feeling utterly stuffed. I slowly lift my gaze from the food and glance at Gaz. "I can't eat any more.." I whisper. "You sure? You've not eaten much.." - "I'm full.." I reassure him. Soap suddenly sits forward in his seat again, making me shrink back slightly again. "Ya done, Lass?" - "mmhmm" I murmer shyly - "Here, hand it over then!" he says keenly. Before I can even process his words, he has leant over Gaz and stolen the bowl and plate from me and was groaning in pleasure at the taste. I blush slightly, embarrassed, that he hasn't even replaced the spoon I had been using. "For fuck sake, Soap, you know she's jumpy. Tone it down a bit - yeah?" Gaz suggests to Soap. "Aye, sorry just starvin' - Sorry wee'yin" he gobbles around a mouthful of bread. I just stare at the scene in front of me, lost for words.

With warm food in my belly for the first time in forever, I start feeling sleepy. I slowly unzip Gaz's jacket, now that I'm warm again, and hand it back to him. "Thanks.." I whisper, placing it on his lap. Gaz tries not to show his disappointment that you are no longer wearing his jacket - his scent. "Are you wanting me to show you to the spare room? Think it's set up ready to use.." he offers. "If that's ok.. I - I don't want to be a hassle.." - "None of that, now.. C'mon, follow me."

I stand and follow obediently again. I enter the hallway after Gaz. The walls are wallpapered with a white floral pattern. It's light and airy. Gaz walks up a set of stairs to an upper level, I follow him closely. He stops on the upper landing and points to the left hallway. "It's the second door on the right. You'll have your own bathroom too." I nod and hesitate before walking independently down the hallway, feeling a little insecure, but deciding to be brave anyway. I get to the door and slowly twist the door handle. I glance back at Gaz who just nods and turns to go back down stairs to join the rest of his pack.

I step into the room and take stock of everything in it. The walls are covered in blue and white striped wallpaper. There is a window on the back wall of the room. I check out the bathroom which is to the right hand side of the room - it has a shower, sink and a toilet, with another smaller window behind it. I step back into the main room and look at the bed. I hesitate before slowly lowering myself down on it. It's soft. I should feel comfortable, but instead I feel exposed. Unsafe. I decide to look around the bathroom again, digging through the cupboards to see what I could use. I find a few toothbrushes, still in the packs, so I remove one and hurry to brush my teeth. It's funny how such a small bit of self care can make me feel cleaner. I decide to strip from my filthy clothes and step into the shower. I turn the water on, accidentally blasting myself with freezing water before it started to heat up. I don't even squeal, being all too accustomed to cold showers. I do, however, moan when the water starts to heat up. I check out all of the soaps and products on the rack in the shower. It all looks like male stuff but I don't care. I absolutely lather myself in it. I repeat it several times over. Lather. Rinse. Lather. Rinse. And so on...

I finally step from the shower when my skin starts to wrinkle. I haven't felt this clean since - well - probably ever! The wall of steam floods the bedroom when I leave the bathroom. I get myself dry and search the chest of drawers for something clean to sleep in. From the looks of the contents inside, it looks like standard military style clothing. I find some dark joggers and a khaki t-shirt. I quickly dress, finding myself having to seriously tighten the drawstring around my waist of the trousers and roll the sleeves up of the long sleeved t-shirt. I climb into bed and pull the covers tightly around me. I toss and turn before finally dozing off.

*Gaz's POV*

I show her the directions to the room she is to stay in, deciding to stay back and let her check it out for herself. Soap had stayed in that room a few nights ago when he pissed everyone off so badly, Ghost decided to punish him by throwing him out of the pack bed for the night. I just hope he had left it clean enough for her. I walk downstairs to the rest of my pack. I sit back down in my space next to Soap, who immediately chucks his legs over me, to rest them on my lap. I massage his legs for him, making him purr. I smile softly at my pack mate.

Price speaks up then. "Kyle - what's going on with the girl then..?" - "She's scared.. terrified. Fuck knows what they've done to her but none of it has been good. I think she is warming up to me though" I reply. He nods in agreement. "Kate sent over her file. It looks like she's been tortured and drugged to comply. Her designation is unknown - but she has been the asset behind all four of the most recent Makarov hits. And several before these too, before we were called up, so she certainly isn't as harmless as she makes out." I find myself nodding too, trying to piece together what all of this means. "Who is she, then?" Soap asks. "Her government name is Y/N Y/L/N - they called her Laika - apparently she was always co-operative, or obedient, I think is the word they used. I guess she was thrashed into submission. They say she is of a gentle, anxious, nature but the drugs helped 'level' her - whatever that means" Price explains.

"Turned her into a puppet, that means. A puppet to do all of their dirty work" I spit back, disgusted and angry. "So the drugs, are they still in her system? Is that why she isn't giving off any scent or signs of her designation?" I ask. "That's something we are going to have to ask her, Kyle. The file mentions that she gets 'topped up' every couple of months when she starts showing resistance" - "Poor girl was trying to fight it" I interrupt Price.

"Don't start getting attached, Garrick." Simon grumbles at me. "Piss off" I snap back.

"I'm tired, let's go to bed, yeah, talk about it in the morning?" I suggest. "Yep, Kyle's right, bed - all of you" Price orders. We all stand and make our way to our room. I glance toward the door of Laika - Y/N's - room and all seems quiet. Hopefully she is sleeping, I think inside my head.

*Back to Laika (Y/N's) POV*

I wake, startled - seeing visions of pools of blood I had been the cause of. Seeing lifeless eyes of those I had killed. I leap out of bed and start feeling my arm for my handkerchief. Shit shit shit. I'd left it somewhere. I slide down the wall panicking, trying to remember where the hell I had put it. All this time at the facility and I'd managed not to lose it. It comes to me all of a sudden. Gaz's jacket. My handkerchief is in the pocket of his jacket. I sneak out of the room and try to quietly tip toe downstairs. The stairs are a bit creaky but being quiet is my speciality. I finally find my way to the room we had been sitting in when I had returned the jacket to Gaz. It wasn't there. My stomach sinks. A single tear falls from my eye. I slump on to the couch and try not to weep. I can't go rooting about looking for it. I will just have to calm myself down and go back to my room. I try to gather myself.

Five, or so, minutes later, I stand and start to make my way back up the stairs. I avoid all of the creaky parts of each stair and successfully make it to the upper landing. I turn toward my room and gently close the door. I fail to notice the dark, masked Alpha, watching my every move. He slinks back into his pack's room, not waking them.

I try to settle back in the bed, failing miserably. I find myself crawling under the bed with a pillow and blanket, feeling safer in an enclosed space. I finally settle into a restless sleep.

#john soap mctavish x reader #john price x reader #captain john price #simon riley x reader #ghost #ghost x reader #kyle gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #omega reader #abo dynamics #poly 141 #pack dynamics #slow burn #eventual smut #task force x reader #reader insert

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fandomzwriterk · 6 months ago

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can I request yandere Scott summers x reader smut

The New “Grey” pt2

Warnings: NSFW material + Single!Scott + slight out of character Scott + ropes are used

A/N: sure I’ll go ahead and try😋 thanks for the request yall making me follow the Scott Summers hype train I swear 🤣🤣 I love yall requesting smut even though I’m not the greatest 😅😅

NSFW below the cut👇🏻

“Scott Summers you are an insufferable man!”

“Will you shut up Jean you’ve been complaining all day about something unimportant!”

“Unimportant?! I’m asking if you love me! How is that not important to you?!”

You were down the stairs in the living room, everyone around you hearing Scott and Jean argue upstairs. Logan and Gambit were annoyed, having to deal with this for the fifth time this week.

“My chérie why do you look so blue?” Gambit asked, sitting right next to you on the couch without even asking. “Is it because of the ex lovers upstairs?”

You ignored him as he leaned close, trying to get you to say something. However, Remy didn’t like that response, so he carefully put a hand on top of yours, slowly going up your arm. Split second later and you slapped Remy’s face as hard as you could. This wasn’t the first time he’d try something, but this was the last straw with him “toying” with you.

“Ooh ma belle I love it when you’re mean.”

“Okay that’s enough!” Logan shouted at Gambit

“Fuck off Logan it’s not your business.”

“It is my business when you’re touching her and she doesn’t want it. She clearly doesn’t want you.”

“And what makes you say that Logan? I don’t see anyone crawling on their hands and knees to ask her to love them.”

“Are you so sure Gambit?” A voice growled behind you

You both looked behind you, Scott standing there with his arms crossed, eyes seeming to burn into Gambit’s face as a way to say “back off”. Scott had been “hovering” around you since he and Jean started fighting. Maybe they were truly done, after all Scott told you he loved you more than Jean.

“Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to have a conversation with you Gambit.”

You stood up to leave, just about to step past Scott as everyone went their separate ways.

“Where do you think you’re going my sweet?” Scott cooed in your ear

Remy had his back to you, currently not seeing what Scott was doing.

“So what did you want to talk about mon ami-“

As soon as Remy started turning around, Scott punched the man in the face, causing Remy to get whiplash and slammed into the wall. Holding the side of his face, Remy’s eyes went into feral mode, his eyes focused right on Scott and no longer you.

“What the fuck Cyclops?!” He shouted

“Touch her again and it’s gonna hurt a lot worse next time.”

Scott was fuming, and you could already tell. You’ve been trying to put space between you two, but now it seemed like Scott wasn’t having it.

“Come here my sweet.” Scott growled as he grabbed your hand to pull you along

You turned to look at Remy, his eyes glaring at the back of Scott’s head but also seeming to finally understand what’s been going on behind the scenes.

“Scott? Can you let me go?” You asked as he practically ran up the steps, pulling you along

Scott let out a grunt, not acknowledging what you just said. Turning the corner and walking down the hall to his room, the grip on your hand tighten. This wasn’t the Scott you’ve always known. He’s supposed to be chasing after Jean, and you wanted him to stop hurting your friends.

“Get in here.” He growled practically throwing you into the room

You stumbled, tripping on your own feet from the force of his push. Scott was standing by the door, his fingers playing with the lock to make sure nobody came to find you two alone. You crawled away, getting your back to the wall right under the window. Scott was strong, also intimidating as he walked slowly up to you, smiling to himself as he saw you desperately trying to get away with nothing but the only way out being the window or the locked door behind him.

“Sweetheart don’t run I just want to love you.”

His words were sweet, almost covering up the bad intentions he had behind his actions as he grabbed your ankles and pulled you closer to him. His other hand went over your mouth to cover whatever you had to say.

“Now… be a good little sweetheart and obey my commands.” He growled into your ear as he had you squished between him and the floor

You could only nod as Scott stood up, walking to the closet that was once his and Jean’s. His attention wasn’t on you, so now would be a good time to get away and find Gambit or Storm or even Logan. So, you waited for a few seconds, his back to the rest of the room as you quietly stood up, trying to calmly get to the door. So, you sped up a little faster, your hands almost on the doorknob to get out. Too late, it was locked, and Scott most likely had the key. Your attempt was failing as you felt Scott’s presence behind you.

“Little sweetie I thought I said to be a good little pet.”

He grabbed the back of your head, pulling back and then slamming you into the door facing him. His other hand held a long rope. You felt your legs shake at what you figured he was going to do to you.

“Now my dear… I’ve been so frustrated for the last couple of months and since Jean could never satisfy me… you will be my new love that pleases me.”

His tone was sinister, shoving your hands over your head and keeping eye contact with you as he got it around your wrists. Then, he spun you around and had your arms behind you. You were scared. You didn’t even have to guess what his intentions were in this moment as he pushed you further into the door, feeling his hands go down your body.

“I don’t have time to deal with the formalities… so we’re doing this my way.”

He yanked down your bottoms, finding your thighs clenched together out of what you told yourself was fear. Fear? Or was it need?

“So sweet my dear. Now, be a good little slut and take it.”

His one hand gripped your hands that were tied together, the other holding his hard cock to your slimy and wet hole. You were scared,.. but also interested in what he had planned. No! He was just divorced from Jean and now that he’s single, he went right to you.

“Scott please~” you whined

“Is my good little pet needing this in you already? Well then don’t mind if I…”

It was silent for a second right before you felt something hard and warm go inside you. It was so good for your insides, just barely being prepared for him and still tight for him. Scott murmured a quick profanity as he stopped when he was fully inside you.

“Fuck you feel so good my sweetheart. Now… I’m gonna make you fucking submit to me.”

The grip on your tied wrists got tighter as he slowly pulled out, before pumping right back in. Scott was groaning your name out loud so much you wondered how nobody could hear you two from downstairs.

“Scott.” Was all you could say as a moan, feeling your body go numb to him as he slowly started to fuck you

“Yeah? Does my cock make you feel good? Fuck this is so much better than Jean.”

He went faster, holding onto you as tight as he could. All he could say was your name occasionally with a few profanities into the air. The fact your hands were behind your back and you were being basically fucked into a door had your mind spiraling at how Scott was making you feel. It felt… amazing. It felt odd knowing it was Scott, Jean’s now ex-husband, being the one fucking you into numbness. Scott was losing his mind in you, and you sure as hell felt the same as he kept fucking you harder and harder, the floor creaking under you two.

“Oh god….” Scott moaned out

He was getting sloppy now, biting on the back of your neck as he kept thrusting himself deeper each time. It hurt, but in a good way and you wanted more.

“Scott please! Just let me cum please!”

He laughed behind you, the pleasure starting to get to him too as he pressed you fully against the door, his hands on your hips now to hold you in place.

“Alright my sweetheart. I’m gonna- gonna cream inside. It’s mine to fuck and fill up. Mine.”

Your nails scratched the door as Scott felt you about to cum as well. His grip was tight, sure to leave a few marks on your body for the next couple of days.

“Fuck. Oh I’m cumming my sweetest.”

His final slam up into you was hard, feeling his cock twitch and squirt his cum into the deepest parts of you, while you came hard on his cock, painting a nice white ring at the base of it. There was a lot, most of it inside of you though, and it was a warm comforting feeling. Scott let you go, picking you up bridal style as he placed you on his own bed, quickly undoing the ropes that tied your tired and red arms. You smiled at him, feeling comfortable on all the soft cushion beneath. He smiled back. Finally, he looked happy for once.

“I’m going to go make sure Gambit never gets his hands on my sweetie ever again. If he does, oh he’s gonna regret it.” Scott spoke as he fixed his pants, pulling up his boxers as well to make it look like nothing happened.

You could only blink at him, watching him put his hand on the door and pull a key out of his pocket. Sure enough, he was out the door. He stood in the doorway for a second, looking at you with a big smile.

“I love you my sweetheart. I’m so glad you’re gonna only be mine and I can forget about Jean.”

And then he closed it behind him.

The end…

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! I still don’t see the sexual appeal of Scott but you guys be you and I’ll write whatever yall want.

#xmen 97 #xmen morph #xmen gambit #logan xmen #xmen cyclops #beast xmen #x men 97 #rogue xmen #yandere cyclops #cyclops x reader #cyclops x men #cyclops #scott summers x reader #scott summers #Scott summers x you #xmen fanfiction #xmen fandom #xmen 92

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according2thelore · 1 month ago

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Omg I'm loving all the ES /LS!Winchester dynamic!!!! Would you guys consider compiling and posting the drabbles on A03?

Also, ES!Dean being so turned on by with LS!Sam is so hot and hilarious 🤣🤣🤣

But it's got me thinking, what if ES!Sam comes to Dean for some tips on Dean's preferences/favourite positions?

ES!Sam would cringe/blush so hard while asking but the poor collage boy couldn't top ES!Dean's years of experience hoeing around all 50 states 🤣🤣😭

Also, how would ES!Sam react to finding out about Benny? (Whether as a "brother" or if there was a romantic past)

hi!

i've made a lil masterlist over here, but i've actually never considered putting them on ao3! i'd feel a lil bad if i clogged up the wincest tag whenever i update it, since i do it weekly/biweekly. would that be something y'all are interested in? i can't tell if i'm overthinking it?

i put a poll underneath the cut--let me know what y'all think!

as for your ideas--AAH!!!!!!! also written below the cut!

ES!Sam is practically vibrating as he stalks over to LS!Dean in the garage, but loses all nerve as soon as dean actually looks up and sees him standing there. he tries to lean against one of the work stations and misses.

"so. uh. sleeping? with you? how does that work?"

and LS!Dean kinda hits him with the

because uh...what are we about to do? and remind me how i'm supposed to answer in the negative again?

and when ES!Sam sputters through an explanation, getting more and more angry as he keeps going because there is little to NOTHING ES!Sam hates more than feeling stupid or being condescended to, finally spits out,

"what do you like?! sexually?"

LS!Dean is now sweating bc "that does not clarify a single thing, actually."

ES!Sam throws a towel at him, which LS!Dean sportingly lets hit him.

"you! 2006 you! if you were to--uh--have sex. with me? what do you like?"

and LS!Dean is still kind of agog because oh my god??? he himself is already pitching the beginnings of a tent over here and ES!Sam is still blushing and keeps looking in dean's eyes in shifts, looking up at his hairline and then back down to his eyes like he has to take eye contact in doses.

"sexually." sam says again, and if he says it one more time, dean's pretty sure he's going to have to suck his dick right here, right now. he's pretty sure. "i think you...ah, have more experience than me at this point. so. who knows what you'd like better than...you?"

LS!Dean moves his roll-cart of tools in front of him, because this is like every dirty fantasy he's had about sam since he was fifteen. shyly coming up, blushing and hiding under bangs and asking big brother how to have sex, asking big brother how to make it good for him.

when LS!Dean's tongue gets unstuck from the roof of his mouth, he has to clear his throat a few times. almost a hilarious number of times, really. his voice still cracks.

"well. um. sammy. sam." he corrects quickly, hedging a look up at him, "i've gotta tell you. you could probably throw up on his dick and he'd probably come like a teenager."

ES!Sam recoils.

"you want me to throw up on your dick??" he says--really fucking loud--and LS!Dean ducks like someone's taking shots.

"NO! what? what the fuck, kid? no!" LS!Dean looks around, but no one sticks their head in. "it's a metaphor!"

"what is metaphorical about me throwing up on your dick?" ES!Sam looks a little green, like he might do it whether dean wants him to or not.

"i'm saying--" LS!Dean says pointedly, "that i've been so gone for you since you were practically born. you could be the categorically worst lay in the entire world and i'll react like i bagged angelina jolie."

ES!Sam's ears flush pink.

"oh." he says, soft. LS!Dean shifts on his feet, awkward, as sam looks up at him from underneath his bangs, even though the damn kid still towers over him a few inches.

dean sighs.

"he's probably gonna want missionary. he's a sap." he grumbles. "moan his name a few times and do that thing the chick from boston taught you with your tongue. ann or something."

ES!Sam jolts, "how do you know about--"

LS!Dean raises an eyebrow, and sam tapers off into an awkward, understanding nod.

"yeah. drives me crazy." dean confirms. "let him take care of you. he'll have a fucking coronary."

the embarrassed avoidance in ES!Sam's gaze disappears, and a determined glint shines in his eye. for a second, dean thinks he might whip out a pen and paper and start taking notes.

"you have my blessing." LS!Dean says with a show of grandiose magnanimity, and ES!Sam snorts. "i'm like sex yoda right now. kinda scary. can you wear me like a backpack real quick?"

ES!Sam turns on his heel so dean can't see his smile, and dean chalks that one up as a victory.

"hyperbole." ES!Sam calls as he walks away.

"gesundheit!" dean calls after him, and sam turns around, cocky little smile and raised eyebrow and dean feels like he's twenty-six again.

"it wasn't a metaphor. 'throwing up on your dick.' it was hyperbole." he says, but his eye roll is undercut by a grin so wide it splits dean right down the middle.

as for ES!Sam finding about benny...oh lord...

this little buddy is not cool about it. considering the fact that he doesn't even know vampires are still around yet, he is GOBSMACKED by the fact dean was fucking friends with one. purgatory is a whole other can of worms.

he's kind of mad at LS!Sam for a second, because what do you mean we didn't look for him? until LS!Sam turns and looks at him with the deadest look in his eyes and says 'i thought dean was dead' and yeah. okay. he wasn't in his right mind. even the thought makes sam a few seconds away from throwing up, so sam is NOT holding his older self accountable for anything that happened during that time.

but the think that gets him right in the fucking panic alarm is "brother." benny has been more like a brother to me than you have ever been would send ES!Sam to a fucking hospital.

at this point, sam has literally never NOT been dean's 100% specialest little guy, and ES!Dean still gives him amazed little looks even a year after they reunited like he still can't believe his luck. considering S8 sam almost killed himself because he was literally trying to purge his own weakness and--significantly--that includes his "betrayal" of dean, to make himself worthy of his brotherhood again, ES!Sam is passed out on the ground.

he's jealous, of course, but mostly he's gutted. he's so incredibly insecure, and this makes him angry and mean, because--remember--LS!Dean doesn't wear the amulet anymore. and he calls other people brother. who is sam if not dean's little brother? that has always been his first identifier, even to himself, even when he's resented it. he stands a little too close to ES!Dean/LS!Dean for a few weeks, seeking praise like a child.

this was really fun to write, anon, thank you so much for sending it in!!!! <3 kissing you on both cheeks mwah mwah!!!! <3

-lizzy

[ES/LS verse masterlist here]

#ask box #lizzy answers #ES/LS verse #anon <3 #ficlets #i had so much fun writing this one omg

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creatingblackcharacters · 2 months ago

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hello!! (and welcome back!!!!)

i have a question about how to properly write a scene in a fanfiction i have

so, it's a zombie apocalypse thing, and theres some level of fantasy racism against a white character. he gets turned into a zombie and then turns back, and everyone is pretty wary of him sometimes, but for the most part they just kill zombies and dont actually have an issue with HIM, but he considers it wrong to kill ANY zombies (which i fully disagree with as a zombie media enthusiast, they literally kill people)

so, i'm going to have one of those scenes where the white character goes to the Black character with 'oh, you could NEVER understand how this feels!', EXCEPT, the plan is that the Black character (Juliet, and the white guy is her boyfriend Romeo) gets kind of angry after hearing him say this to her all the time and pretty much goes 'Romeo, i'm a Black woman'

i was wondering how to properly write this scene, and to show that Romeo is completely in the wrong for acting like Juliet wouldn't understand the racism she's been going through her whole life (because i am SURE that some people would think 'wow thats so fucked up of Juliet to be mad at him when hes just talking about his experience')

in reality i don't think Romeo would do this but disappointingly he somehow ended up like that in the series because i write it with someone else. but i feel that this scene would be important to include even though i would honestly like to completely change so much of what we've done with Romeo's character

thank you!

Of course you would name your characters Romeo and Juliet lmao. Okay so admittedly this will be biased because I am stunned at the audacity of your co-writer for putting you in this situation. But there are two things I personally would do, maybe both, maybe one or the other:

1) remember how I've said before that the mark of a genuine ally is how they respond to being approached with their racism? If you think this is an unironic reflection if your co-writer's beliefs, you need to stop and tell them that you are uncomfortable. Period. I'm not going to sit here and roleplay microaggressions. No. And if they don't want to change, then I would simply no longer write this story. Just because they want to write racism and call it romantic doesn't mean that you have to participate.

2) if you want to commit to the bit, you can always show what would actually happen in this situation with a Black character with self respect, which is Juliet dumping him. 😊👍🏾 I can't imagine being in the zombie apocalypse and letting somebody be racist during. I don't have time for that. and I'm already making time for a romance? With a zombie? That treats me microaggressively? Nah. I could be doing anything else at the moment. Survival is key, I risked it, and you think that's how you'll do me? Unacceptable. Let them write out of that one 🤣 no happily ever after without a genuine apology and reflection 🤣

Jokes aside (well, theyre not really jokes) you're asking how to reflect the Black woman's experience with racism in your story. And if that's not something you're confident in writing, something that you've studied, read, listened to, and have a grasp on, I wouldn't do it at all. In addition to how this story is supposed to be a romance (I assume, given the names) racism isn't romantic. Hiring a Black sensitivity reader could be key at this moment as well.

As I have said before, I'm always iffy on fantasy racism anyway, because it usually reveals that people don't actually understand what real world racism is and how it functions. I don't know how well you and your co-writer have written this story. But if your white zombie Romeo really is experiencing "zombie racism", then it stands to reason that he should be able to recognize racism when it's in front of him, and he should be checked for that.

#creatingblackcharacters #thatsjusttips

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lutawolf · 1 year ago

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My Personal Weatherman and the D/s element Ep 4

If you haven't read the others, they can be found here.

Ahhh, nothing gets me going like a sub wearing what their Dom picked out. That subtle ownership. Why yes, I do pick out all my husband's clothes except the dreaded work clothes. I refuse to take the blame for those tacky things.

Right off, we can easily see that this is not an M/s situation. The fact that Segasaki is asking Yoh what he wants to do, tells us exactly what we need to know. Yoh is explaining what he is going to do. That is not something a slave would ever even think to do. We can easily tell that he is a subby sub though, cause when Segasaki brings out the Dom, Yoh eases back.

OMG, that chin grab! @bl-bam-beyond pretty please gif that chin grab.

That chin grab with the "No." Ugh, how all my lovely subs doing? Are you still here? Have you been able to finish the show? Or are you stuck here on rewind?

Yoh actually questions Segasaki as to why not. Anybody still thinking Yoh a slave? Cause not to be rude, I can't fix stupid. This boy, a brat. Fuck, this whole scene is really showcasing their dynamic. "But we made a promise." "Tell her that you can't go anymore. Do it. Do you even know why you are in this house." And once again, we're back at the misunderstanding stage.

A fangirl, I see. OMG, this is adorable. Yoh is like, sure. Let's look at the tie of my Dom, bestie.

Yoh calling with Segasaki standing over him. This episode is killing me in the best possible way. Don't revive me! (No! I have not taken my ADHD meds, don't judge me!) "I was ordered to stay home." Hahahaha! Then the ahhhh, after he tells her that he will make it up to her. Letting you know he was likely just punished by Segasaki. Yes, my mind went here.

Then the reward of the head pat, "you did good."

youtube

She showed up to check on him! Woot! Haha, she is about to find out who is boyfriend is. Hahaha. I'm dying. Meanwhile, his boyfriend is like, "guess it's time for a face off." Ya'll I'm not okay. I'm laughing so hard.

And Yoho stepped over a line and got put in his place. But he is too busy having a crisis to care! 🤣🤣🤣 Her face is my favorite.

That effortless lie. He wasn't feeling well. Uh huh. I love these two dumbass friends. I need sake too!!! I'm dying. Shit, I can't breathe through the laughter.

Now it's Yoh's turn to be jealous. Ahh, he got drunk and fell asleep on the floor. The places we find comfortable when we are drunk.

Nope, he doesn't want to go to the bed. I love the outer dialogue we are getting. I really enjoy that we get Yoh's side of things and from his perspective, but this rounds it out a bit for me.

And look at that beautiful smile when Segasaki finds out she's married. "Are you in your rebellious phase." Does this sound familiar to certain people whom I will not mention by name!?! Hmmm! Brats! Stop breaking my heart! Make him stop Segasaki, make him stop!

Fuck, I love these two so much. Everything he is describing is very much a Brat Tamer. Bossy but gentle. Controlling but caring. Charming and unreasonable. Brat Tamer.

The way his squishes Yoh's face! Ahhh, these two are gonna kill me!

"It would be nice if you stayed drunk forever." Because of the honesty. Segasaki likes Yoh's quirks, but he also wants the honesty and the connection.

I need the curry story now! But apparently, I must wait. Heavy sigh.

Hope you guys enjoyed this! Let me know in the tags if you did. 💜💜💜 See you next time.

#my personal weatherman #taikan yoho #segasaki x yoh #luta talks my personal weatherman #luta talks kink #coconuts mafia #Youtube

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lensman-arms-race · 1 month ago

Text

Episode 77 part 3 and 4

(I was going to make a post with parts 3 and 4, but ran into the Tumblr image limit! I'll make another post about part 4.)

Previously: Episode 77 part 1, Episode 77 part 2

DFB has given us TV-simps some delicious food!! And I had five asks about this! Spoilers under the cut.

Pile of asks:

Anonymous:

Now that episode 77 is done what do you think is the 'plot twist'? I found 'hardware heads were human' from part 2 to be a lot more shocking than G-Man helping The Alliance.

@some-girl-i-guess-1

Did you see the new episode? What are your thoughts about it?

@gamie99

I love reading your episode reviews because you always have so much to say! And I'm sure you have SO many thoughts about this one, because HOLY COW.

Anonymous:

The latest part of the episode was pretty crazy what did you think about it? What do you think will occur in the full episode?

@love-draw-fanart

After watching 77 part 4, I started imagining Titan-TV fighting with his ghost if his body was destroyed 🤣🤣🤣🤣 very, veryyyyyy "you can't kill the death"

Part 3:

I'm a little disappointed that Cam Matriarch appears to have lost her tortoise mode + flechette cannon, because that was what made me love her in the first place! The flying cannon replacement is pretty cool... but it's sad how all the cute robots are becoming badass rather than cute.

Wonder what the 'there are 3 Polycephalies' crowd will have to say about this? Will they think there are 2 Cam Matriarchs?

The distant 'hee hee' at this point was funny as hell! I do love how Boom breaks up tension with funny parts like this.

Not only has Cam Matriarch inherited Plunk's weapons, but also his idiot ball, apparently. Mate, you can't defeat that bastard, he's like a fucking battleship.

See, TV Matriarch agrees with me... Wait... there's absolutely no need for TV Matriarch to put her hand on Cam Matriarch's boob - she's copping a feel!

Also, holy crap, how have I only just noticed Cam Matriarch's goth boots?

Polycephaly, my beloved! And what an entrance! I swoon!

My earlier point about robots becoming badass but losing some of their cute appeal still stands. The head upgrades make sense tactically but they're uncute. And my boy's lost his cuddly tendrils! Now he's got Ass-tro tech bolted on him.

Also he looks goofy with his tie tucked into his trousers instead of his waistcoat. Boo.

There was a visual glitch at this point in which Buzzsaw's helmet temporarily despawned, but Boom appears to have fixed it.

"Someone is dying... and it's not me." OUGGGHHH HOLY CRAP!! Titan TV, my beloved!!

Also he flares out his back-spikes at this point and it's so good, hnnnngh.

Fuckin' no-sells the Astro projectiles.

Interestingly, Titan TV now appears to have the ability to fire off little 'pellets' of energy from his core instead of just a huge-ass blast (note hyphen position; that's huge-ass blast, not huge ass-blast).

After swiping away the Astro projectiles, Titan TV proceeds to get one of his monitor extensions chewed off. Oops. He seems strangely unbothered by this! It almost looks as though he turns his head towards the Astro to let it happen.

Excellent Astro grump face:

"Look at me!" (Okay, but why didn't you do that before Matey Boy bit your screen off?)

Goddamn, I love what Boom does with Toilet expressions; they're hilarious!

Decapitation!

Unfortunately, some other fucker arrives and manages to both deplete the Titan's back-spikes and smash his main screen.

The Astro strider appears to break the Titan's screen by getting behind his head and then suddenly pushing his head forward. Did the Titan's screen break on his own core-spikes? Or just from the stress on his head-casing?

The Titan does appear to catch the Astro in his back-spikes (and then fling the Astro away), which presumably is how the Astro breaks some of the spikes off.

"Your Titan wouldn't want you to die meaninglessly. Leave, while you still can." TVs are rude fuckers but they do still care about their comrades! That's why I love them best.

This prick shows up. I get the feeling they were muttering 'If you want something done right, do it yourself'. This Astro fights more competently than the last two.

Fortunately, Titan TV is saved from total annihilation by the Cams firing a shot from their tank, which buys the Titan enough time to counter-attack... and say a very curious line.

"You can't kill the dead!"

Is this just trash-talking, or an actual lore drop?? "I'll show you what the other side looks like!"

Is this an implication that TVs come from dead humans (or believe that they do)? Maybe TVs believe that they're already dead, because the state of the world is so shitty that it must be already Hell?

Or maybe this is just like Pete Weber, who got so excited bowling that he ended up saying "Who do you think you are? I am! Dammit right!"

Either way, we're treated to one of the most brutal deaths in the series, in which Titan TV crushes the Astro's head in his bare hands.

Polycephaly comforts the dying Cam who managed to fire the distracting shot. "You did well, lil bro." My heart!

"We teleported everyone to base." Except POV Cam, because they smell.

Also where's your head-turrets? (I hope Boom puts them back in the full episode.)

Titan TV is wrecked but is still spoiling for a rumble. Part 3 ends with him calling out the arriving Astros as 'pathetic trash' and demanding to fight Juggernaut. (One detail I liked here is that we hear the rhythmic clanking sound of Titan TV's core claws, rotating but no longer smoothly. It's rather like the ominous ticking of a clock signalling impending doom.)

Wait... if he has no working TV screens, he's not Titan TV Man. He's just Titan Man. Ehehe.

It's a little surprising how 2-dimensional these fights are - as in the characters stay in one plane close to the ground, even though they can all fly. I suppose we'd have to wait even longer between episodes if Boom had to choreograph swooping aerial fights!

#skibidi toilet #skibidi tags: episode 77

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thought--bubble · 1 year ago

Text

It's ok to hurt me, I'm not worth much (one-shot)

Billy Washington X (Store Clerk Reader)

Warnings after the Break

Full Master list

Billy W. Master list

Banners By: @arcielee

A/N: this is by far the smuttiest thing I've ever written so please don't judge me too harshly 🤣🤣 I was inspired by the video someone posted of Billy whining and I couldn't help myself.🤣

Warnings: depression, self-loathing, oral sex (M receiving)

When you met Billy Washington, he seemed like a moderately happy guy. He must have had a flat nearby because he was in your cornerstore quite often. He would come alone, or sometimes he would be in the company of a pretty woman hands intertwined they seemed like a happy couple.

When he would come to the counter with his items for purchase, he would always have a friendly smile and ask how you have been doing. You loved it when he came into the store. Mostly because you could stare at him when he did. He was handsome. He had a tall, slender figure. A sharp jawline with piercing blue eyes and shaggy hair.

You didn't flirt with him because you were aware he had a girlfriend. A girlfriend who you surmised was one of the luckiest women you had ever met. She was as beautiful as he was. Light features and a soft laugh.

You always looked forward to his visits, though. You paid such close attention that you picked up on subtle changes. It started with the pretty girl. You noticed that for weeks on end, she had not accompanied him. Then, it was his smile. It seemed each time you saw him that beautiful smile of his got smaller and smaller until there was no smile at all. Then the fluffy hair on his head hung down in what looked like oily globs. His previously clean shaven face now littered with patches of mismatched hairs that looked like a young boy trying to grow a beard for the first time.

You couldn't help but wonder, what had happened to this cheeky adorable man?

You were getting ready to close down the shop. It was a Friday night and you planned on going to the pub with a few friends to unwind. You were counting the till when the little bell over the door interrupted your thoughts. You had thought you locked the door.

"I'm sorry were closing up" you said not looking up.

"Possible just to get a quick pack o smokes?"

You lift your head quickly at the recognition of his voice. Although it no longer sounded cheeky instead shakey and unsure you would still recognize it anywhere.

"Oh, sure. Can't deny you now can I?" You joke while grabbing his brand of smokes from behind the counter and placing them in front of you.

He looks an utter mess. Eyes glossy, hair disheveled, clothes unkempt.

He gives you a half smile that doesn't make it to his eyes. You put your hand over the pack and bite your bottom lip.

"I'll give you these.... IF you answer some questions" You feel a small burst of adrenaline you have never been this forward.

He looks at you confused "questions?" He scratches at his temple. You notice his hand is injured and wrapped in gauze.

"Yep. We have a deal?" You pick up the pack and wiggle it back and fourth in front of him.

"Yeah, alright, I'm not too interesting though"

"I'll be the judge of that." You move from behind the counter and flip the open sign to closed and lock the door. You pull down the blinds over the windows and the last one over the door.

"No interruptions." You go back behind the counter and pull out two stools, bringing them to where Billy is standing. He is shifting his weight from foot to foot. Running the flat of his palms down the front of his pants, no doubt, trying to wipe off the sweat that has started to accumulate there.

You move the two stools so they are facing each other.

"Sit" you motion to one of the stools.

He hesitates, looking between you and the stools with confusion.

"You're fidgety, sit"

He lets out a shakey light laugh and sits down on the stool and you sit down on the stool you had set up across from him.

"Ok.... first question" you look into his eyes he looks so nervous. It endearing.

"What happened to the pretty girl that was always in here with you?"

"Becky.... oh yeah that..... didn't work out" he looks down at his feet nervously tapping them together.

You fight the smirk that wants to crawl across your face. "Is that the reason for all of this?" You wave your hands towards him.

"All of what?" He looks at you confused.

"The dirty hair? Unkempt clothes? No longer shaving?"

"W-what? N-no. " he pats down his hair and brushes off his clothes self-consciously. "I've got a lot of different things going on at the moment"

"Explain it to me" you say gently.

He looks away, not wanting to make eye contact. "You don't want to hear any of this." he nervously runs his fingers through his hair.

"But I do" you scoot your stool forward so your knees are near touching as you reach down and squeeze his with your hand. "Tell me"

His eyes go wide as he stares at your hand on his knee and clears his throat. "U-umm... got rejected from the army"

"That's not a big deal loads of people do" you run your hand up his thigh and back down to his knee in a comforting gesture.

He keeps his head down watching your hand "no not my family. Not just once but a lot of times."

"So..... choose a different career path, " you say now using your thumb to rub circles on his knee.

"Can't keep a job." He lets out a huff mixed with a laugh

"Then you haven't found the right one"

He finally lifts his head and looks at you. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because that happy funny man I always loved to see has disappeared. I would like to find him and bring him back. " You get off the stool and stand in front of him.

"Trust me, I'm not worth it," he says, dejected.

"Hey," you put your hands on his cheeks and lift his face to look at you. His blue eyes are so sad that you feel yourself melt a little. You rub your thumbs along his cheekbones. "What has you saying a terrible thing like that?"

He allows you to keep his head in your hands and keeps looking up at you. "They all tell me. They ain't wrong."

You think he looks like a little puppy that needs to be rescued in this moment. "They hurt you, huh?" You continued caressing his cheekbones. He raises his arms as if he is going to rest them on your hips but instead lets them fall back into his lap.

"It's ok to hurt me, I'm not worth much," your heart breaks as he finally looks away from you, putting his hands over yours and lowering them off of his face.

You kneel down in front of him and place your hands on his knees. He looks at you completely confused.

"Umm.... ermmm.... what are you doing?" He runs the palms of his hands against his pants.

"I want to show you that you are important." He stays silent, eyes wide just staring at you.

You run your hands from his knees up his thighs and back down while you both maintain eye contact.

"H-how would you do that?" He gulps loudly.

"I have a few ideas." You scoot in closer, spreading his legs apart, settling yourself in between them.

"What makes you feel good" you say to him in your best sultry voice.

He's just looking at you, jaw slack. After a few minutes, he finally half responds. "Huh?"

"Well, you have been feeling bad. So -" You run both hands from his knees all the way up to his hips, lingering for a moment before running them back down."I would like to know what makes you feel good"

He makes a small whimpering sound as his eyes quickly scan your face. "If you won't tell me, I guess I will just have to figure it out. If what I'm doing makes you feel bad, you just tell me, yeah?"

He barely squeaks out an "Uh hu"

You run your hands up and down his thighs a few more times and click your tongue. "Tsk tsk so tense, Billy."

He makes another small whimpering noise lighting a fire in your belly. You bring your hands back up to his hips and then slide them under his shirt.

He holds his breath but doesn't pull away. Your hands slowly slide out of his shirt and over his waistband and down into his lap.

When your hands brush lightly over his manhood under his joggers, he lets out a slightly louder whine and his hips jolt forward. You start to caress him through his joggers as he is involuntarily bucking his hips lightly.

"So responsive, sweet boy," he whimpers again as you bring your hands back up to his waistband and start to shimmy them down just enough to free his throbbing member.

"Well, that's impressive" you say while looking and his fully erect cock thats already wet with precum.

Billy is breathing heavily but doesn't say anything he stares at your hand as you wrap it around him.

"Oh shit" he says in a whimper as you start moving your hand up and down in precise motions along his cock not fully gripping.

"It's so pretty" you say and fully grip him as he lets out a gasp. His hands gripping the sides of the stool.

You lean in as if you're inspecting it, making sure your breath can be felt on the tip.

Billy whimpers again, his hips slightly shifting. You give the tip a kitten lick and then look up at billy. His eyes are wide and his mouth open completely entranced.

You take his right hand and place it on the back of your neck before leaning completely forward and taking the head of his cock in your mouth. You feel the hand on your neck start to squeeze, and you hear him starting to pant above you.

You take as much into your mouth as you can and grip the rest with your hand as you start bobbing your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks. Billy slides his hand up from your neck into your hair.

"P-p-please don't stop," he says in between whimpers. You start to move your head more vigorously. Feeling his cock battering the back of your throat. His whimpering is getting steadily louder, and his hips start to buck up off the stool. His hand gripping your hair as if he is hanging on for dear life.

You lower your head as far down as you can until it causes you to gag. Billy moves to pull your hair back with both his hands, watching your every move intently.

"Oh, I'm gonna, oh no, I'm gonna." He doesn't finish his sentence before you feel his cock pulse I'm your mouth as his seed shoots down your throat.

You make sure to swallow everything he gives you and then rise to your feet. He sits on the stool face flushed with beads of sweat on his forehead.

"I bet you really need that pack a smokes now, huh?" You say cheekily as you walk back around to the back of the counter.

Billy is still speechless sitting on the stool, and he hasn't moved an inch yet. Only his eyes are following you around the room.

You go back over to him, sitting in the stool and handing the pack of cigarettes to him. He stares at the pack blankly, not moving.

You giggle, taking his hand and placing the cigarettes in them. This contact seems to wake him up, and he looks at you.

"T-thank you"

You smile sweetly at him. "I have to finish closing this place up now.

"Oh yeah, sure i should....." he looks down and gets himself back into his joggers.

"I should probably get out of your way then," he stands up. He looks over at you like he wants to say something else but can't bring himself to do so. He walks to the door and opens it to step out.

"Billy?" He stops and looks at you.

"I expect to see that happy smiling man back in here. I have a surprise. I can't wait to give him"

Billy dawns a giant cheeky grin that lights up his face.

"I think he will be coming to this store often"

To be added to taglist click here

#billy washington fanfiction #billy washington x reader #billy washington smut #billy washington #ewan mitchell verse #ewan mitchell fanfic #billy washington oneshot #ewan mitchell #ewanverse #trigger point #ewan nation #jess fics #my sad puppy bf

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krirebr · 10 months ago

Text

I Know I Should Know Better 4

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Female Reader, references to past Colin Shea x Female Reader & past Johnny Storm x Female Reader

Word Count: ~3.5k

Summary: Curtis has been working as your body guard for almost two years now. Standing by and watching you work and party your life away is becoming more and more difficult, but is there anything he can do about it?

Warnings: Angst, adult themes, complicated power dynamics, minor age difference (not explicit in this part, but reader is mid-twenties and Curtis is early thirties), drinking & implied drug use, explicit language, bad boyfriend (Colin continues to be awful, even though we haven't actually seen him since part 2), self-destructive behavior, anxiety, negative self-talk. She's still having a bad time, you guys. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Well, here it is! As I currently have it planned, this will be seven parts, so we're officially past the halfway point now. This part's a little shorter, but I'm hoping you'll think it's worth it.

Big thanks to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me nail down the new character here! (If you don't remember doing that Carly, it's because it was ages ago 🤣)

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screaming at me. 😄 As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

The drive to the restaurant was uncomfortable. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just you. Sitting in the backseat alone, while Curtis and Jensen quietly conversed in the front, you felt ridiculous. You should learn how to drive. You were a grown woman who couldn’t even get herself anywhere—just another way you didn’t know how to be responsible for yourself.

You stared at Curtis in the front seat. It’d been a few weeks since your boundaries conversation. You hadn’t spoken to him much since. He was right. It was better. Cleaner. But you missed being able to talk to him.

Something had changed about the way he watched you though. You would swear that it was more intense now, the way his eyes followed you around the room. And it always seemed like he had something to say, he’d just never say it. He didn’t make any sense.

You took a breath. You were nervous about this lunch. You weren’t entirely sure what the purpose of it was, aside from the fact that Marnie Reynolds had wanted to meet. You hadn’t seen her in years and then she just texted you out of the blue two days ago, asking if you wanted to have lunch. You assumed she was going to pitch you something. Why else would she want to talk? You hoped it’d be something easy to agree to. It would make Wilford and Tanya feel better if someone actively wanted to work with you, at the very least.

The restaurant wasn’t the kind of place you normally went to. It was nice, but tucked away, not designed for those who wanted to see and be seen. Marnie had chosen it. She was waiting for you at a small table in the back, even more private. She stood as you approached and enveloped you in a warm hug. She was just as glamorous as you remembered, suddenly hit by memories of sitting in her trailer while she let you try on her jewelry. She’d always been so nice to you. “Oh, honey, it’s so good to see you,” she said as you both sat down.

You smiled and nodded. “It’s good to see you, too. How are you?”

“Oh, good, good,” she said with a big smile. “Just got back from a shoot in Greece. Happy to be home.” Her eyes lost a little of their luster as she asked, “How are you, darling?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” you said. You could tell she wanted you to say more, but you just nodded and shrugged.

“Well,” she looked at you carefully, “I can’t get over how grown up you are. I know it’s silly, but I think I’ll always see you as the sixteen-year-old I met at the table read ten years ago.”

“You and all of America,” you said dryly before you could think better of it.

Instead of chastising you, she just nodded. “I’m very grateful I didn’t have to grow up so publicly and then have to make that transition to being an adult. I can’t imagine how hard that is.”

You shrugged again. You didn’t really know what to say to her.

“Which, speaking of, I owe you an apology.”

Panic rose in your chest. Oh, god. Had she sold a story about you? Said something private in an interview? Blocked you from a new role? You weren’t sure you could handle one more thing right now. “Oh?” you asked shakily.

She nodded, seriously. “I should have done a better job of keeping in touch with you after we’d finished the movie. I owed you that much. I’m sorry.”

You furrowed your brow, confused. “That’s fine. You’ve been so busy. I didn’t really expect you to remember me. I mean, you won an Oscar. I know how much work that takes.”

“Mmm,” she said, “and you sent me flowers.”

You shrugged. You just kept shrugging. “Well, you were always kind to me, and I was so happy for you. It seemed like the least I should do.”

“You were always so sweet. I’m so happy to see that hasn’t changed.”

At the sincerity on her face, you looked down at your menu. You didn’t know what to say to that.

“How’s your mom?” she asked, her tone strangely cautious. “Is she still your manager?”

“Oh, no. Wilford helped me get a new one when I turned 18. He thought I needed someone more experienced.”

She let out a breath, almost like she was relieved. “I have to admit, I’m happy to hear that.” You gave her a confused look and she continued softly, “She was always so hard on you. It was part of why I always invited you to my trailer. It seemed like you could really use a break from her.” She gave you another impossibly warm smile. “Plus, you were such great company. I loved making that movie with you.”

You couldn’t hide your relief when the server chose that moment to take your orders. You didn’t know what to do with the fondness in Marnie’s eyes.

Once you were both done ordering, you decided you were ready to talk business. “So, what’s the project?” you asked.

She looked confused. “Project?”

“Uh, yeah. Whatever you wanted to pitch me? The reason you asked me here.”

“Oh, honey, no, I’m sorry. There’s no project. I just wanted to see you.”

That didn’t make sense. That she didn’t want to work with you again made sense. No one did, so of course she didn’t either. But then why else were you here? “I don’t understand,” you said quietly.

She let out a sad little sigh. “I’ve seen some of what’s been going on with you, online, and it just seems like you need a friend. I want to be that for you. I think about you more than you know.”

“Oh,” was all you managed to say.

She grabbed your hand over the table. “There’s so much going on for you right now. I can’t imagine how hard it must be, and then to have to deal with it in public too.”

You didn’t say anything, just looked at your joined hands on the table. Then, finally, still looking down, “Uh, yeah. I’m having a pretty hard time.”

She squeezed your hand. “I’m so sorry. I’m here to listen if you ever want to talk about it.”

You finally looked up and nodded, but didn’t say anything else. You weren’t sure you could.

She looked at you carefully. “Have you thought about taking a break at all?”

You were reminded of Curtis, sitting on your couch, looking at you so earnestly, talking about taking a year off. You shook the image out of your head. “No,” you said. “It isn’t a good time. My reputation isn’t great right now, so I need to get back out there and show people that I can do the work. I need to fix it.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, “that sounds like agent speak.”

“Well,” you shrugged, “he’s right.”

“Remember, though,” she said, slowly, “that you’re a person, too. Not just a career.”

You just looked at her, blankly. Your career had been the most important thing about you since you were nine years old. You didn’t know how to separate the two. Luckily, that was when the server returned with your food, and Marnie graciously took it as a sign to take over the conversation for the rest of your meal. She talked about the movie she’d just finished, how her kids were doing, and the large garden she was planting at home. It was nice. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a meal out with a friend like this.

Still, you left the restaurant feeling raw and restless. You weren’t sure what to do with that conversation, the hard parts of it. The way she looked at you like she actually saw you. There was an itch in you now that just made you want to run.

Instead, as soon as you got home, you poured yourself a glass of sangria from the pitcher your housekeeper kept in your fridge and took the latest script Wilford had sent you onto your deck. You could feel Curtis watching you as you moved through the glass doors. That was his job, you told yourself. It was just his job.

The script fucking sucked. It was awful. The opposite of what you wanted to do. But you knew what Wilford would say. Beggars can’t be choosers. This was your fault. You were the one who’d destroyed your reputation. You had to be the one to fix it. And if making shit like this would fix it, then that’s what you had to do. Too many people relied on you for you not to do whatever you could, take whatever paychecks you could get. You hated it. You hated it so much. But you would do it.

You picked up your phone. You hadn’t realized how much time had passed. It was well into the evening now. There was a text from Michelle an hour ago, letting you know she’d left. And a few minutes ago, one from Nikki, a girl you partied with sometimes, that just said ‘Fuck them both!’

What the hell did that mean? Panic began to crawl up your throat and your hands started to shake as you typed your name into Google and clicked on News. Your stomach dropped. Johnny Storm, that snowboarder you’d barely dated over a year ago, apparently had a podcast now. And the latest episode, posted that day, featured Colin Shea as its guest. Shit. Fuck. You couldn’t even look at what they’d said. There was no point. It was all just the same old bullshit.

You felt tears start to prick at your eyes. Why couldn’t everyone just leave you the fuck alone? You weren’t even that interesting. How could they possibly have anything to talk about?

Fuck that, you thought, as you stormed back into your house. You distantly registered Curtis calling after you, but you didn’t pay any attention. You were too focused. You headed straight up to your bedroom. They wanted something to talk about? You’d fucking give it to them! You charged into your closet and grabbed the sluttiest, shiniest dress you had. Fuck yeah. You could do this. You would be exactly who they wanted you to be. If they wanted a show so fucking badly, you’d give them one.

You ran back downstairs, looking for a particular pair of earrings that a costar had given you as a wrap gift a couple of years ago – huge dangly ones that said Fuck on one ear and You on the other. There was nothing subtle about what you were going for tonight.

You’d have to think of someone to call, too. Someone suitable for the kind of scene you wanted to make, the kind of big mistake you wanted to fall into. You were so fucking tired of holding it all together. You were done. Your mind immediately landed on Lucas Lee, your costar in that dumb action movie last year. He was awful but so hot. Nothing but trouble and always up for whatever. Perfect.

As you entered your living room, your eyes landed on one of your jewelry boxes on the coffee table. There they were! As you picked up the box, you realized Curtis was sitting by himself on the couch. You saw him take in your short, sparkly dress and grimace. You weren’t in the mood to analyze it. “I’m going out,” you announced. “Have Jensen get the car ready.”

You were already moving through, headed back upstairs when you heard Curtis rasp, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

You turned on a dime. “Excuse me?”

“I think,” he said slowly, so calmly you wanted to break something, “that going out right now, in the sort of mood you’re clearly in, would be a very bad idea.”

What the actual fuck? “Since when,” you asked, your voice quiet with seething anger, “is it your job to tell me what to do?”

He shook his head and you didn’t know how to react to how sad he looked. “I’m not telling you to do anything. I’m asking you to stay home tonight. For your own safety, which very much is my job.”

You just stared at him, dumbfounded. You didn’t understand him. He told you you weren’t friends. He was the one who said he was just your bodyguard. So what the hell was he doing now?

In the moment you stood frozen, just staring at him, he took a cautious step forward. “Did something happen?” he asked barely above a whisper.

You shook your head furiously. You felt like you could barely form words. You were so angry and lost, and scared, and sad, and confused. You were feeling more than you thought your body could contain. And you knew, you knew, the only way to get these feelings out would be to go out and get as wild as you could. And here Curtis was, not letting you. You were afraid you were going to explode. “That’s fine,” you finally got out, ignoring his question. “You don’t have to come with me. Jake neither. I’ll get a fucking Uber.” You took a step towards the opening of the room. “Go home Jake!” you shouted through the house. “I won’t need you tonight!”

Curtis sighed your name. “I’m not going to let you go out by yourself,” he said firmly.

You threw your hands in the air. “Then make up your goddamn mind!”

Jake appeared in the doorway, looking confused and Curtis turned to him. You took the opportunity to get back to the safety of your room, leaving your security detail to figure their shit out. Once back in your room, you dug through the jewelry box until you found the earrings you were looking for. You heard your back door open and close. Good. Jake, at least, was gone. You knew Curtis would be harder, but you were fucking determined.

Just as you were opening Uber on your phone, Curtis appeared in your doorway. “What,” you growled.

“Would you just listen to me for a minute?!” He said, not quite a yell, but not not that either, as he barged into your room. All of his practiced calm from downstairs was completely gone. “Something bad is going to happen if you go out tonight! It is, I know it is. And I know you can feel it too!”

“Why do you care?!” You shouted at him. “No one else does! Why do you care so much?!”

“You know why!” he shouted back, and took another step toward you, but then suddenly stopped. Much, much quieter, much softer, and with eyes so pleading, he said “You must know.”

You didn’t. You really don’t think you knew until that moment, when the realization slammed into you. Every look, every sigh, all of the moments of him that hadn’t made sense. You took a step back. “What?” you breathed, barely realizing that you were shaking.

He took a step forward to follow you, then stopped. He opened his mouth to say something, but you shook your head at him. “No,” you said. “You can’t.”

“I can’t?!” he asked, incredulous and upset again.

“No!” you shouted, but it was so much weaker now. “I just– Why would– I’m such a fucking mess!” You were starting to cry, the adrenaline of the last half-hour finally leaking out of you, replaced by that same bone-deep exhaustion that you’d had for too long. “I barely have a high school education. I don’t know how to do anything for myself. No one wants to work with me. I am barely keeping it together and everyone knows it. I’m a trainwreck! Why would you–” You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words that you knew he meant. “Why would you have feelings for someone like that?”

The sadness was back in his face. You looked away, unable to bear it. In your periphery, you saw him take a cautious step forward, then pause. When you made no move to run, he eliminated the distance between you, standing directly in front of you. He slowly, gently, carefully brought one hand up to touch your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I know,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I know all that and I still love you. Because I also know that somehow, despite everything, you are one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met. You are so kind. And thoughtful. You let everyone see your soft spots, even when all they do is hurt you. You have every reason to be awful or bitter or mean or any of a thousand things. But you aren’t. It’s all of it, it’s all of those things and the ones you said too. All of it together, that’s why I love you. I love you because you’re you.”

You wanted to sob. No one had ever said anything remotely like that to you before. Not anyone in your family, or a single one of your exes. No one had ever cared enough to say any of that. Except for Curtis. He’d always cared, hadn’t he? Since that first day he’d showed up, when you’d been so scared about the possibility of a stalker, he’d taken such care with you. He was the most caring, thoughtful, beautiful person you knew. You took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. You could see his worry, but also the deep conviction with which he’d just said all that to you. You couldn’t help yourself anymore. You surged forward and you kissed him.

He made a noise of surprise—you didn’t know how he could possibly be surprised after all that—but after just a moment he was kissing you back, bringing both hands up to cradle your head. You were getting your tears all over him, but he didn’t seem to care. He was soft and gentle and passionate. You needed more. You needed all of him.

You took a step back, breaking the kiss. You did what you could to brush the tears off your face. You grabbed the bottom of your dress and pulled it over your head, then tossed it on the floor. You stood in front of him in the lingerie you’d picked out to fuck Lucas Lee of all people and couldn’t understand how you’d ever been able to think about anyone but Curtis. But you did know how when you stopped to think about it. You’d never been able to fathom that you might deserve this man. That he might actually want you.

He stared at you. “Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re–” you braced yourself for what might come next. So hot or fucking sexy. You’d even gotten beautiful once or twice. He only took a second before he finished his sentence “–incredible,” with such awe on his face that you actually felt your knees go weak. You had to look away. He was too much.

He took your face in his hands again and placed a soft, short kiss on your lips. “But would it be ok if we slowed down?” he asked.

You couldn’t keep the disappointment out of your voice. “Why?”

“This is real for me,” he said. “And if we do this, I want it to be real for you too. I want you to be sure. And for now,” he stroked one thumb over your cheekbone, “right now I just want to hold you. Is that alright? If I just hold you tonight?”

You didn’t know how to respond to that. Sex had always been the best, most important part of any of your relationships. It’d been the biggest thing that any of your previous partners had wanted from you. You weren’t sure you knew how to do it any other way. But he was holding you so gently, looking at you so softly, all you could do was nod.

He kissed you once more. Then stepped back and started to take off his clothes. You made your way to your bed and got in, watching him as he shed his clothes. He really was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. Nothing on any movie set you’d ever been on, any party you’d ever been to could compare to him.

Once he was down to just his boxers, he crawled in next to you and pulled you close. Your lips touched his shoulder as you asked, barely audible, “You really love me?”

He kissed your forehead. “Yes,” he whispered. “I really love you.”

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